You And Me In The Zombie Flick

You tell me that you’d be a survivor,
smart enough to stay out of the way.

I peg myself the second guy
to figure it all out,
who picks up

the key and opens the heavy door
before being swallowed up

in the undead-stuffed corridor.

We omit the promise of wasting

each other
and kiss good luck
before our fight against
a horde of ex-people

devouring toward us.
I think a thought as secret as the tiny

bite wound I hide:
I would end you
if the village depended on it.

You’d do the same
for me.

What I Said One Time When A Woman Called Me Jose

“Not all Mexicans are named Jose
and not all Mexicans are Mexican, and,
in fact, there are other countries
where they also speak Spanish,
and I am actually a U.S. citizen born in this country
and English is my first language.”
I stopped when she apologized for being
inconsiderate, said it was an honest mistake,
and my mean streak kicked in to convert
her guilt into a seething sun’s glare when I told her,
“That’s okay, my middle name is Jose.”


Related: More ‘Viva Macondo’ entries


Juan Morales

Juan J. Morales is the son of an Ecuadorian mother and Puerto Rican father. He is the author of three poetry collections, including Friday and the Year That Followed, The Siren World, and The Handyman’s...