Skip to main content

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal


After Jose Hernandez Diaz

Jose, you have opened my eyes,
with the poem about Nick, the
quick, Van Exel. Why didn’t I ever
think about writing a poem about
that team I rooted for since my youth?
Why not a poem about Eddie Jones,
who was smooth and steady player?
His number should have been hanging
in the rafters, if not for Kobe Bryant
joining the team. I would have loved to
wear an Eddie Jones or a Nick Van Exel
jersey, but I could not afford either.
I watched those games on Channel 9
with Chick and Stu announcing. I could
understand why Nick Van Exel was your
favorite player. Come to think about it,
he was my favorite player too. Drafted
37th, such a steal. He played with a chip
on his shoulder for being dissed. He made
his share of buzzer beaters to the cheers
of the crowd. This poem is for you, Jose,
for Nick, the quick, and for smooth Eddie.
In this arena we practice our crossover,
three-point shots, and behind the back passes.
Sometimes the mustard falls off the hot dog
but we keep trying. Someday a kid will be
wearing a jersey with a poet’s name in the back.

Born in Mexico, Luis lives in the San Gabriel Valley in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. He is the author of Make the Water Laugh, (Rogue Wolf Press, 2021), and Make the Light Mine, (Kendra Steiner Editions, 2016). His poetry has appeared in Blue Collar Review, Escape Into Life, Live Nude Poems, Mad Swirl, Triggerfish Critical Review, and Unlikely Stories.


Popular posts from this blog

Ed Dorn's # 22 From Twenty-four Love Poems

                                               from Jacket The strengthy message here in #22 of 24 Love Songs can be summed up in two lines: ['There is/no sense to beauty. . .' and '. . .How/ the world is shit/ and I mean all of it] What I also like about this brief poem is the interplay between the title of the book and the subject of the poems (love/anti-love (which is not hate)): it's all a mass of contradictions, like love. And I have to say that the shorter poems of the Love Songs and the last book he wrote before dying (Chemo Sábe) seem to me much better and more memorable than the Slinger/Gunslinger poems. These (generally) later poems probably attempt less stylistically, but are more sure-handed, hacked from a soap bar, maybe. Easy to use, but disappear after use. In any case, Dorn is well worth the reading and re-reading, for me, though he'll never become one of my favorites. And doesn't every poet want that, dead or alive? ;-) #22 The agony

Corey Mesler

  I think of you tonight, my Beats I think of you tonight, my Beats, and I am grateful.  I walked the narrow lanes of Academia and never felt at home. There were men and women in the flowerbeds, their heads full of theorems and poems. There were teachers who could lift their own weight in prose.  I was lonely. I was too loose.  I was a lad from the faraway country of Smarting. But I had you as so many before me. I had you and I knew secret things. I could count on you like a percussion. And now I want to say: I love you.  If not for you, what? I want to say. If Allen Ginsberg did not exist it would be necessary to invent him.  COREY MESLER has been published in numerous anthologies and journals including Poetry, Gargoyle, Five Points, Good Poems American Places, and New Stories from the South . He has published over 25 books of fiction and poetry. His newest novel, The Diminishment of Charlie Cain , is from Livingston Press. He also wrote the screenplay for We Go On , which won The Me

David Oliver Cranmer

Not Just Another Playlist Often, I sit in my swivel chair looking out the window, while jazz, country, or rock music plays. This pleasure goes on for many hours a mystic trance of sorts streaming—the glue maintaining my soul. I turn the best songs into playlists (once we called them mix tapes) puzzling over the perfect order. Does Satchmo’s “What a Wonderful World” kick off my latest list or make it the big soulful closer? And does “Mack the Knife” go higher in the set than “Summertime?” That’s an Ella Fitzgerald duet! “Foolishness? No, it’s not” whether you are climbing a tree to count all the leaves or tapping to beats. These are the joys that bring inner peace and balance (to a cold universe) lifting spirits skyward. David Oliver Cranmer ’s poems, short stories, articles, and essays have appeared in publications such as Punk Noir Magazine , The Five-Two: Crime Poetry Weekly , Needle: A Magazine of Noir , LitReactor , Macmillan’s Criminal Element , and