Catapult | Poetry

WHAT IS A COUNTRY TO A UNIVERSE?

a rooster crows from a neighbor’s backyard / pinche gallo, Abuelo spits, looks quick / to see if i wake from the noise / of Spring

Catapult magazine · Listen to Alexis Aceves Garcia read this poem

WHAT IS A COUNTRY TO A UNIVERSE?

  

i am a curly black haired baby
planted in a white netted hammock
between a Weeping Banyan
n a Canary Island Palm
Tio Luis n the yard workers
of Garcia Landscape Services
park their pickup trucks in the driveway
push lawn mowers thru the garden
of dappled light around me
a rooster crows from a neighbor’s backyard
to see if i wake from the noise
of Spring, my eyes flutter white
sheets on the clothesline, nopales stretch
skywild along the back fence
inside, Abuela practices English
fills pages of a composition notebook
w/ the twisted hammock
of her translated cursive

    butter

  i take my first steps      across     the field

    

  the video camera’s   open eye

  in the rough grass

            one step

              two step

            threefour


  ven mija, ven acá

a wobbled orbit
around Abuelo
i curse the rooster
my chirp uncurtains
his crooked teeth
shoulder folded con risa
between spoons
of pistachio ice cream
i crayon

  

above an eagle
eating a snake
i don’t speak English
i lick the bowl clean

my favorite game:

a side of a bed sheet
bring their arms above
their heads n
down

i
  duck
waves of cotton
limbs barrel thru
the plush fabric
when the game
is over, i reach
for their fingertips
palm the whole
framed sky