México at Ten Removes
by Ricardo Hernandez
contains some
excitement some
usage like
the series of turns
one might expect
to encounter
on a southern soujurn
a turn
on the road
in the waist
of the knuckle
that dark
rendezvous
is supple
as sweat
on the vendor’s
narrow brow
bright
as condensed
dew on the roadside
begonias
in a town
where the men wear
their sadness like
a second-hand shirt
a row of potbellies
hanging
just below the hem
is a switchblade
lobbed
over a draw-
bridge railing
the handle worn down
by touch
as to suggest
a waxen moon
a set of lustrous
veneers
is ultimately
free
of appraisal
of margins
of sequence
I assure you
your Honor
I was never beautiful
I have always been
myself
Ricardo Hernandez is the son of Mexican immigrants. A recipient of fellowships from Lambda Literary, Poets House, and The Vermont Studio Center, his work has appeared in Witness, Hyperallergic, The Offing, and elsewhere. He holds an MFA from Rutgers-Newark and lives in Jersey City.
