Two POEMS
Angelina Leanos
Geographic Tongue
no one told me there’s a life without rashes | do you know how many times | i’d pour
mexico into mouth and feel the puncturing of apex | a dozen blisters on body | i’d devour
valentina until roots dried in milk and salt | swallow sixty sabritones as lips mountained
with saliva and salt | i’d wolf abuela’s nopales and howl this resuscitated river | this map
tethering figure to ancestor’s grief | this tongue that heals only to burn again at the swaddle
of its birthright
Abuelo-Speaking #0.5
You awaken at the Road of Dodging
Where Grandma’s garden knocks outside your window
At noon you wait for Tito to come inside for his lunch break
He beckons you to join him on the porch and you run over
Not knowing yet how to say I love spending time with you
So instead you say the next closest thing you know: Okay
When Tito unloads the bundles from the truck and offers you a branch
You sit on your Dora the Explorer throne and follow Grandma’s example
Unaware that stripping each pods of their roots is essential to yours
You will not yet understand this ritual
1. always requires both violence and tenderness
2. permanently binds you to your abuelos
3. will break when you speak
As Grandma prepares the garbanzos you remember her instructions
sólo necesitas comer uno para que la poción funcione
When Grandma finishes you find the smallest one hard to swallow
And when Tito asks what you think
➢ You have no answer
➢ You respond in English
every
time
no one told me there’s a life without rashes | do you know how many times | i’d pour
mexico into mouth and feel the puncturing of apex | a dozen blisters on body | i’d devour
valentina until roots dried in milk and salt | swallow sixty sabritones as lips mountained
with saliva and salt | i’d wolf abuela’s nopales and howl this resuscitated river | this map
tethering figure to ancestor’s grief | this tongue that heals only to burn again at the swaddle
of its birthright
Abuelo-Speaking #0.5
You awaken at the Road of Dodging
Where Grandma’s garden knocks outside your window
At noon you wait for Tito to come inside for his lunch break
He beckons you to join him on the porch and you run over
Not knowing yet how to say I love spending time with you
So instead you say the next closest thing you know: Okay
When Tito unloads the bundles from the truck and offers you a branch
You sit on your Dora the Explorer throne and follow Grandma’s example
Unaware that stripping each pods of their roots is essential to yours
You will not yet understand this ritual
1. always requires both violence and tenderness
2. permanently binds you to your abuelos
3. will break when you speak
As Grandma prepares the garbanzos you remember her instructions
sólo necesitas comer uno para que la poción funcione
When Grandma finishes you find the smallest one hard to swallow
And when Tito asks what you think
➢ You have no answer
➢ You respond in English
every
time
Angelina Leanos a Ventura County Youth Poet Laureate Emeritus and a current student at California State University, Fresno pursuing an MFA in poetry. She is a Poet-Teacher for California Poets in the Schools and the youngest poet to join the organization’s Board of Directors. Her work has been published by Arkana, Fruitslice, Flowersong Press, Chicanx Writers & Artists Association, and others.