Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

HAVING HIS BABY

by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

A cop broke

into my home

and beat me.

He sexed me

up and now I’m

having his

baby. The

cop denied it.

He’s hiding

behind his

badge. But he is

a fat pig

and I will

report him to

the city.

I wonder

if my baby

will grow up

to be a

cop. Perhaps he

could fix all

my parking

tickets. I have

so many.

WANDERING WOLF

By Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

No one saw him
in the neighborhood
before. He looked
lost and hungry.

People would bring
him food hoping
he would leave town,
go on his way.

The homeless man
would not leave. He
would come back for
more food. Just like

a coyote,
bringing him food
was not a good
idea. He

would return to
the people who
brought him food. He
would look through their

windows and their
garbage cans. He
would howl like a
wolf. Finally,

the cops were called.
The homeless man
could not provide
his name, address,

or who was his
family. There
was a mad look
in his eye. He

said his name was
wandering wolf,
howling at the
cops and neighbors.

Get the Tooth Fairy Over Here

by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

I’m going to burn

this motherfucker down.

My tooth is killing

the shit out of me doctor.

Get the tooth fairy

over here so I could kick

his lily ass. He

better leave me a million

dollars worth of quarters

under my pillow.

Get Doctor Giggles in here

to put me out of my misery.

I could use a few blunts.

I want to smoke this

pain away. The meds

the dentist gave me are

not doing anything

to soothe my pain.

I don’t have somatic

delusions. The fucking

tooth pain is real.

Shoot me full of h

and end me. I don’t

want to live anymore.

Stabbed

by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

Was she stabbed

or did she

stab herself?

She won’t say.

She’s guarded

that way. She

loves to seek

attention.

She wants to

be the one

that’s always

talked about.

She said she

would like to

be a rock

star. In fact

she said she

was one. But

no one has

ever heard

her sing or

play guitar.

She bangs on

doors pretty

good. Perhaps

she is a

drummer or

hard playing

piano

player. Her

stab wounds were

not too deep.

There was not

too much blood.

Perhaps she

doesn’t bleed.

She might be

an alien.

I Got Sick

by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

If I had

been able

to apply

myself in

school, I would

have done much

better. I

would have worked.

But it’s not

my fault that

I got sick.

Voices came

into my

head. They have

been with me

all my life.

I should not

have gotten

married. It

didn’t work out.

I have not

seen my kids

in years. They

must be so

old now. I

don’t like these

voices. They

keep getting

worse. Lately,

they want me

to jump in

traffic or

overdose

on my pills.

Now what can

you do for

me? Are you

my saviour?

Luis’s chapbooks Keepers of Silence and Without Peace were published by Kendra Steiner Editions in 2007. His first poetry book, Raw Materials, was published by Pygmy Forest Press. New poetry will appear in Pearl, Lit Chaos, and DecomP.