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8:52 a.m.
past the main plaza bronze hidalgo y
costilla // large letters spelling
r-e-y-n-o-s-a // la estrella restaurant //
on corner // huevos veracruzanos hot
special // a neon virgin mary coopting a
benevolent mess hall // unrepentant
appetites // my shirt full of dust & hair
9:41 a.m.
differences between a PRI-endorsed
taquería & a taquería that endorses el PRI
// google’s pinned me in hidalgo, texas
not surprisingly // no lack of la chilindrina
references in the affective reflexes of
children // later // another round of the
champions league
10:33 a.m.
fearsome style cross-acculturated //
thinking of ramallah // rome // question //
where is the chuntaro? // a guy walks
with a pronounced limp // a woman
weighing less than 90 lbs // “me la
compraría si no fuera tan caro” //
someone sighs // tostilocos this early
are a tasty treat for many
11:45 a.m.
yuki writes to wish me the best day //
proselytizers employing appropriated
corridos perform // pamphlet says god’s
great // poems capitulate // a
manichaean walkway // sign: MISSING //
sixteen years old // last spotted leaving
universidad tamaulipeca // february 17th,
2014
12:20 p.m.
bernie and cruz win wisconsin // children
feed the pigeons easily enough // dollar
at 16.20 // tinted windows roll up // 1.2
liter caguamones // la vida loca // generic
viagra // amoxicillin & // tylenol with
codeine #4 // resell well
1:18 p.m.
i’m reminded i once moved around //
mostly barefoot too // phallic objects in
the mouth promise a treatise on //
commercial trends
2:52 p.m.
thankgod wolfsburg up two-nil // the
echo in the room alleviating spatial
narration // someone dares the jukebox //
i have an unfortunate thing // against
voided laughing // dog sitter margaritas //
monster tread-faced vibes // i will update
my profile // “archilochus” // “where is
your shield”
3:29 p.m.
goals keep faith alive // amid panama
papers frenzy // i hack // i sneeze // i
small eyes to the drunk to the left //
skeptics might doubt life // any deviance
// shit-stirred proclivities // nurses pass
across a great salted window // sorry // i
don’t doubt // without sun i’m still the
nicest brown
Originally from the Rio Grande Valley of Texas and now a resident of Occupied Palestine, Christopher Rey Pérez is a poet working within a matrix of opaque folklore, violence, and language. He is the author of gauguin’s notebook (&NOW Books), as well as a number of publications that have appeared in Mexico, Cyprus, China, and Lebanon. “Wednesday” from the manuscript, Reynosa, presents part of a durational and site-based project written in the border city of Reynosa, Mexico from April 4-April 8 of 2016.
This originally appeared on December 29, 2017