Two Poems by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

Planned Destinations

In the morning

on the shoulder

of the freeway

with a flat tire,

the cars zoom

by in hurried

haste to planned

destinations.

Walking to the

back of the car

to the flat tire

at right rear side

of the car, I feel

deflated as well

as the Auto Club

tow truck driver

puts on the spare

after finding

the big hole on

the flat tire.

I spot a broken

meth pipe on the

shoulder of the

road in the gravel.

I think of all the

clients referred

for conservatorship

this month, over

half of them struggling

with this drug as

the cars zoom past

to their planned

destinations.

 

 

His Life and Her Life

 

They took his life and her life

in the middle of the day

because they were poor

because they worked low wages

and they never ate well

because they did not have the means

then or now, and there were

times they slept on the streets

without a tent or blanket;

they slept in the dirt

under trees.

They had good souls.

They were treated worse than dogs.

They worked so hard.

They could barely walk in those old shoes.

They were kept down

and they got up

only to be thrown down again.

They were buried without a dime

to their name; just the debt

they could never pay back;

and what was owed to them for their pain

and sacrifice, no one felt obligated

to pay them back.

Bio: Luis lives in California and works in Los Angeles. His poetry has appeared in Blue Collar Review, Escape Into Life, Kendra Steiner Editions, Misfit Magazine, and Unlikely Stories. His last full-length poetry book, Make the Water Laugh, was published by Rogue Wolf Press.