Consuelo’s Vision


 
Famous– not for walking a fake
distance on his hands, since sleeves
slept empty from his shoulders,

& not for using the cigar stubs
of his legs to waddle like a fish
to his spot. On the sidewalk,

Consuelo sees him, a stump
of a man, surrendered to the void
of his hat, for the glimmer of a coin,

or the feather of a bill. Known
by everyone as an island to leave
undiscovered. Dividing people

in a blur for work, children in
surgical masks, vendors with
trays of sweetbread balanced

on their heads. Held hostage by his
body, but daring Consuelo to guess
who or what brought him: the need

to send a message, a wheelbarrow,
a vengeful wish granted– with
the cracked mirror of his gaze

which kept healing until she was
close enough to ask him, Did I?
If you think his answer was the coin

Consuelo had to swallow she'll say,
no, his smile. Mischievous, a smirk in
the dark, a marble in an empty drawer.


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Mike Soto is a first generation Mexican-American, raised in East Dallas and in a small town in Michoacán. His current manuscript uses themes from the current drug war taking place along the U.S./ Mexico border. The manuscript can be described as a Narco Acid Western told in about forty five poems. It is written in lineage with Alejandro Jodorowsky's film, El Topo.