Lorenzo Herrera y Lozano


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Volume 26, #2, Fall 2010



Poem published as part of Poets Responding to SB1070.



Hierbaloca: The Children of Aztlán


may we dance

in the living room of hope

our bodies hold memory

we are desert stones


may we rise

in the face of our pain

as Arizona weeds dare

our fists rise most when blown


our hearts pump through sorrow

making way for what is possible

we are farmers, we harvest our own


we are backyard children

playing, watched by la abuela

weaving through each other’s arms


we are leaves

on branches, on roads

fodder after being shade

cover to elders

food for new leaves to grow


we are the blood

rivers, mama’s veins

we are the return

though we never left


our lungs pump through anguish

manifest what is possible

we are Texas breeze in each other’s hair


we are nopal-raised abuelos

we play dice with tomorrow

betting we will overcome


somos, todos, aztlaneros

our roots run deep, run wild

unharnessed, tainted as the Gulf


we were free, we remember

thievery shall not hold us

we have no papers to show

ZYZZYVA: the journal of West Coast writers and artist