By Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal I used to be a dog when I was born. I became human when I was between two and three years old. I never had a tail, but I always had a good bark. My ears would ring when I heard sirens. I lost my bloodhound sense. I have to work [...]
Archive for the ‘Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal’ Category
Being Human
Posted in Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal on September 23, 2011 | 1 Comment »
Neologisms
Posted in Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal on August 9, 2010 | Leave a Comment »
By Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal My brigade feels all stretched out. I got a train in my trees. Is this why my grandmother stopped loving me? It is not as if I snatched her hair off. The birds laugh at me because I have female parts like my grandfather. I was assembled at PBS. I look [...]
Strips of Bacon
Posted in Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal on June 8, 2010 | Leave a Comment »
By Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal An airplane dropped strips of bacon onto the street. The bacon was the pilot’s gift to the people below. His gift was a stuffed cat in a different flight, a stone when he was all out bacon, and a bunch of waxworks; bird candles, six inches in length. He threw out [...]
