Declaration | Snitch | Anonimo

Eduardo Martinez-Leyva

Eduardo Martinez-Leyva’s poems have appeared in Assaracus, Apogee Journal, Nepantla: A Journal for Queer Poets of Color, and Best New Poets 2015. He received his MFA from Columbia University, where he was a teaching fellow. He grew up in El Paso, Texas and currently lives in New York City. He is a CantoMundo fellow. 

Declaration

The tourist wearing the straw hat

is smuggling mangos across the border. 

They’re Mexican mangos. Real mangos, 

as my mother would say. Smooth, juicy, 

and inexpensive. But what does he know 

that hasn’t been seen before? 

He won’t be asked what he carries,

where he was born, what side of the line 

he calls home. Under the layers of clothes

and crumpled newspapers, the mangos

sweat their sweetness. Obedient, silent heads, 

just like the rest of us. 

Snitch

I. 

They found him with the head
                  of a marigold crammed inside his throat. 

Handprints and scratches adorned his broken neck,
                  his perfumed breath was the ideal bait for strays. 

II. 

The town felt sorry, though not sorry enough.

                  At school they made an announcement, 

hired a widow to bear the loss, swallow
                  the murmur. A garden was planted. 

No seed or scent twisted free. I warmed my feet 

                  in that ground, waiting 

for an ear to listen. A mouth to bloom. 

                  For eyes only I could identify. 

III. 

I was once taken to the outskirts of town
                  where I was pushed face first into the cold, 

desert dirt. Reduced to crumbs for two shivering hours. 

                  Frightened and ashamed, 

I watched as they gathered up
                  my teeth like crushed petals. 

Anonimo 

How lucky we were to have someone
praying for us, face deep in folded, caring knuckles. 

I tasted blood inside that roach smeared rest stop.
The news talking about a kidnapped brother, the country 

remains foreign, though, if left behind I could survive. Yes, 

find a way to bend my tongue into the shape of a handgun. 

Issue 6.2