Ana Martínez Orizondo

things forgotten

for abuela

we built a dam, you and i 

filled the empty chasm

with fried plan-tins

and grape popsicles

we added cold mornings

soothed with grilled cheese

& scorching days spent in the driveway

with ice cream

and plums

i wish i could have pulled more of you

from your confused medulla

reached into that jumbled mess

of neurons 

and introduced myself to you 

with a mucho gusto

you could have taught me more

about las estrellas

instead of 

showering me

in lace 

you should have shown me

how to wear a pollera with pride

done my hair up 

covered it

in tembleques

but instead

the dam dried out, 

leaving nothing

but spoiled fruit

rotting cheese 

and broken sticks.