Two bottles of Southern Comfort, Black Keys on iTunes, profile picture with sister, stir-fry, 30 Rock, Gorillaz poster, pancakes at 3 am, spontaneous lunch at Barone, friends with benefits, need a hug, Columbus Day, touch my ****, too much tongue, crumpled into wall in the morning, Urban Outfitters for a t-shirt, silver medal, free Dominos, Workaholics at 12, secret sleepover #2, ******* because i thought that's all he wanted from me and i wanted him to stay, hickey on my neck, studying in a room with the round table, drew a horse on the whiteboard, fill out a police report, Redgates from Firehouse, he looks cute today. Tackled into metal, did I break my back? Jump on it, it's not funny, I'm crying, cold beer, kiss on the porch, stop kissing me in 12, *******, more kissing, blood everywhere, come over, comb through hair. you can stay over again, skips class, uses my shower, makes the bed, come with me to doctor. Vermont secret, Batmobile, on Prius, dune buggies, Phantom Menace, brother-in-law, supermarket in Newfane, stir-fry, statement at 6am. Hurricane, in my basement, halloween at the fire station, knitted scarf headpiece, mother's phone number, red gate sandwiches by Citi Bank across from library. Confirmation party, Chartruese, Coldplay at Mohegan, Torches, enchiladas, screaming, stuffed wolf, comic book finishing touches at 1 am, new roommates, L.O.L., I was going to propose to you - in the hallway, 3 month long orchids, Vermont trip #2, no riding allowed, nap by the fire, bare butts touching over unscented blanket, sapphire ring too big under lamppost in parking lot, happy. Sarasota, hide my eyes with Mosley Tribes, take a walk without me, Game of Thrones, cold sand, hair dryer joke, need eye drops, Ringling Mansion, gator bites, silent walk by traffic, kayak in shallow water, families too different, bike ride to tune of Star Wars, nervous about the summer, panic into shoulder on flight home. ******* in the middle of the night, drive around campus, leave me alone, pack up N-64 games, fight before final presentation - only one group gets an A, instant milkshake and magazines to pass the time, make a pizza, here let's make out again - apparently that isn't so bad, almost forgot my friesian mug and vase by the trailer. Texting *****, sick stomach, Lord of the Rings, try smoking, Magic: The Gathering, first communion, wedding, Chip's Family restaurant, high school graduation that I couldn't sit at, Miya's with the mini *****. Fireworks on hill through trees. Retna laptop with blue cover, HGTV's Next Design Star, I have to leave. this is where I stop.

The enchiladas are taking too long
BUT I DON'T EVEN CARE
:)

Gabby Abrego
I'll never let you go go
unless we go to Mexico
and you be come a hobo!
Then I'll go.
and fetch the so co.
so we can dance to disco
eat enchiladas with adobo
pick the **** out of our Afros!

We'll feel so funky,
the people will get spunky
when we arrive on donkeys,
and ride around their towns!
We'll befriend all the junkies
and give them howler monkeys,
it'll be so funny
we'll laugh until you cry!

Ohh! Gabby Abrego I'll never let you go go
unless I get you prego
then I'll run like mad!
cuz if we had a baby
I'd stop being lazy
get as famous as THE LADY
support you like Eminem did for his baby.

So Never Ever leave me
Or I'll succumb to Scientology
and go even more crazy
my world'd become a mystery.

I'd rather be a rhino
rather be tricked into a *****
rather be married to Bono
in a movie starring J.Lo
be forced to live with Yoko Ono
have red eyes like an albino
than to ever be with out
Gabby Abrego!!!

The first enchilada was created in the summer of 1968
In a small house near Seal Beach
In Southern California.

The house was owned by a friend of my dad's
Or my mom's
And we had gone over for dinner

I was eight

I would like to say that it was a cool beach pad
With wood paneling, all the rage back then
And an Eames recliner in the corner of the living room

I only remember the paneling
but since I am writing this
The Eames piece stays

We had gone for dinner
And the owner of the house had made enchiladas
Beef ones as I recall with sauce from a series of Old El Paso cans

I can still smell and taste them
They were the first world food I had ever had
Besides canned Chinese food from the supermarket which doesn't count

And because I loved them with their ground beef and sauce
Their hot oil softened corn tortillas, sour cream, cheese and green onion
And little tiny bits of black olive

They became the prison guards
Throwing open the gates of my suburban Connecticut upbringing
Letting me leave the confines and walk freely in the sunshine for the first time

They were followed by many other firsts
Sushi, Crepes, haggis,  tiki masala and sea urchin to name a few
All of which owe their very existence in my life

To that first enchilada.

you are there, in the kitchen
of my dream
at the stove making enchiladas
and tapioca.
you are probably one hundred and
i think you might keel over, dropping
your white head into the *** of yellow
pudding.
i wonder how you got so suddenly old
and i so suddenly young when
i can remember
reading fairy tales
buying you sugary breakfast cereals
and letting you sleep in my bed
even though you kick
and also tell people
the embarrassing things i say
in my sleep.
i am so hungry i want to eat it all
and leave none for you
but you say to wait
to wait until my eyelashes turn
into a million tiny butterflies
and tickle my skin
with their light wings.
but i'm hungry now, i whine
shoving past you
pushing a hot tortilla between my teeth
and swallowing greedily
desperately
before collapsing
into a sea of blue tiles.
i awake violently, your small foot at my chin.
staring at me is a toenail painted blue.
i stare back at it, into that
tiny ocean.

Him:
I can’t listen to my favourite song,
Because I shared it with you.
I don’t have a favourite film,
Because you seen it first with me.
I won’t eat enchiladas,
Because “nobody cooks ‘em like you do.”
I can’t look at my guitar,
Because you’re not here to play it to.
I never visit the beach,
Because it’s where we kissed for the first time every year.
I gave up singing too,
Because you were the only one who said I could.
I don’t use fabric softener anymore,
Because it can’t comfort me like you did.
I refuse to wear my old white shirt,
Because we both know who looked better in it...

Her:
I listen to your favourite song,
Because I don’t want to listen to anyone else.
I watch your favourite film,
Because you were so excited to show me first.
I eat enchiladas every week,
So that I might have reason to invite you to dinner.
I stop by the music store every month,
So I can be reminded of you and your guitar.
I visit the beach every year,
But the wind never quite blows the same when you’re not there.
I wish I could hear you sing to me now,
It makes you so happy when you do.
I use the same fabric softener you have,
Because it’s the smell of your arm around me.
I want to ask you for your old white shirt,
But I’m afraid that you’ll say no...



Him & Her:**
I want to call you, talk to you
But I’m afraid you’ve moved on.
I don’t want to seem lost and lonely to you,
Even if it’s true.
Because I want to hold your hand again
And feel the perfect overlap
Of lines across our palms.
I want to be drawn to your eyes once more,
Locked together and speaking
All the words I can’t say.
I want to dare to touch your skin
And trace outlines
Across your back.
I want to share your smile
First thing in the morning, last thing at night
Knowing it’s because I’m there.
I want cold beers to turn warm
In the evening sun
Because I’m lost in your conversation.

But I’m too afraid to knock on your door,
When you’re around,
And find disappointment, crushing down.

I'm going on a diet
Of three poems a day.
My water will be ink
Black, blue and gray.

I'll get nourishment from stanzas
Calories from rhyme.
No more food shall I eat
Not at anytime.

I'm going on a diet.
I'll lose a thousand pounds.
But it's unfortunate that enchiladas
Are now out of bounds.

sweat poured down my back,
pooled in my crack
in the seven am Arizona swelter

I waited for the gods to
break open the sky, or the earth
heaven or hell,
it didn't matter

one friend, four legs
though he sealed our fate
we dared not deny him

I wondered if I'd survive ten hits
while you went to take a ****
and the hills, with their eyes,
came alive
to surround me

I lost myself that day,
in the same instant that I threw you away
because betrayal
doesn't taste any better
locked in a six by six cell

Hawaiian prints lifted
numb lips into the closest thing
to a smile
as I recounted a gift from
my island girl,
with eyes gone blue on trial

I thought it poetic that we stood
in this sinking ship
hand in hand,
but now I know
we had been chained to the mast
by fate itself
long ago

our love was flushed down
with your chewed up and **** out
enchiladas

I hope to every god
in this universe
that you still taste
the acid
crawling up your esophagus

call me blind, call me bitter, call me *****,
call me insane

I am all of these things

but I will die knowing
that I have never been disloyal

Los Alamitos
is where I learned
where kittens come from
babies too
I also learned that ivy
when used as a groundcover
is an excellent place to hide
when playing army
Until the old lady
whose ivy you are hiding in
comes out and chases you off

Los Alamitos
is where I found I could play
The Professor
from Gilligan's Island
with just my dad's white shirt
sleeves rolled up
tucked in to my khakis
my friend
a boy
always wanted
to play Ginger

Los Alamitos
gave me a picture
of my brother on his new bike
free and happy
and gave me a sister
a love of enchiladas
the word Smorgasbord
and two cats
Smokey and Signal
Those where the cats
My sister we named Wendy

you know the first time
that you go home after
you've finally cut
the 20-something year old
cord, and you
sit at the dinner table like
always, in the same seat
you've sat in since you
left your high chair, and
dad's made turkey enchiladas,
and you're reaching for
the hot sauce, and then
just as he grabs it to hand
it to you, you notice it first
in the age spots, and then
you follow it to the white
in his beard, and then it's
all written in his deep set eyes,
and his crows feet, and his
cheek bones that seem to
stick out more than ever
and you can't seem to
peel your eyes away
from the man you've known
since birth, even though
you could paint his
face with your eyes closed,
or at least his face the
way you still see it when
you have your
eyes closed

dad, when did you get old?

my stomach has never hurt
so hard
from laughing because i’ve met
some of the best people
to share it
with.
it’s two in the morning
and we decide
perhaps it is time to start
the work that we should’ve
done ahead of time.
and in the morning,
we promise we’ll finish
but instead
we sit and laugh, again.
this time, inappropriately.
the professor’s watching,
and we aren’t getting our work done.

the mexican restaurant
ironically run by asians
is closed.
again.
i’m craving enchiladas.
so i make do with second tier
ones from gramercy.
they’re not bad.
but i prefer
the ones from the mexican restaurant
run by asians.

i sit bundled up,
half free-writing, half asleep,
and i take the person sitting in front of me
and use them to my advantage.
perhaps if i move my head
just a little to the left,
the professor won’t see me
nodding off to sleep.

(i just wanted a little nap).

but i resist
and we present
half-heartedly.
i don’t think we really cared
about the new chancellor
about bloomberg
and about joe torre.

the library brings a welcome change,
and i see a familiar face.
and we sit together
and we laugh
and before we know it,
it’s time for class.
again.

this time,
i make haste
to allow my eyelids to flutter
until they are cemented shut
as Descartes is explained to us
by our passionate
but flighty
professor.

i wake up in time
to be assigned into a group.
(what are we arguing again?)
something about the senses
and how to use them.
and whether we are certain.

i dislike debates like this.
i feel uncertain already.
and philosophy
makes me even more uncertain.
uncertainer. uncertainest.

the train ride home is a haze.
and i am glad to be home.
even though the living room
is missing
its lively chatter
half
from my parents
and half
from the television.

but they’ll be home soon,
and all will be right.

"I need a really long hug and a kiss on my forehead. I need to be serenaded to and told crazy stories about magical things that can never happen but we believe they will. I need to be held sometimes and some other times I might sound distant, but it's not that. I need someone to watch sappy Christmas movies with in the summer and I need someone to help me define love without falling in love because I'm too young to fall in love but I want to be lost in it. I want to be lost in someone in the worst way. I want to know someone like the back of my hand and be able to finish their sentences and order their food for them because I know what they hate and are allergic to. I need to feel this. I need someone that's like a sibling but not so much because I might want to kiss them once in a blue moon. I need to match with someone and look into their eyes and know that it's ok. Because sometimes things aren't ok... But everyone need their person. Their person that they go to and tell everything to, even some things they shouldn't. Because that's a soulmate. It's not about being in love it's just about loving. I need to sing old songs with my person and cry on their shoulder about stupid stuff because I'm feeling sensitive (which is actually often. I cried when my mom made the enchiladas different) I need someone that I don't have to try with. I need a me. I need someone who is like me, but different... So it never gets boring. Genuine. I have these insane dreams and I just need someone to share them with. To paint this canvas called life. I need help painting it and I want to paint it with my person. I'm just as needy as I am independent and it's the worst combination because I feel like I'm 50 people in one. I contradict myself all the time and I need someone to understand that. I need someone who understands that I'm bad and I'm good all together. I make mistakes but I can do some things so perfectly. That I do cry sometimes but it does not mean I'm depressed!! That I do get super happy but it doesn't mean I'm some freak optimist. That not everything has a deeper meaning. I need that. I need someone to try new foods with and ***** with when they're really gross! I need someone to make jokes with and that even though we make fun of other people we don't actually mean it. I need someone to make the world seem like it's not all that bad and that time doesn't exist when we are together... Something like a Nick & Nora's music playlist. I want to feel like I'm on drugs all the time without doing them. Pure ecstasy. I need someone to understand me because I don't understand me AT ALL. Like at all. I need to find my missing piece."

4 Fried stuffed avocados.
Migas enchiladas.
A craving,
an appetite, a hollow
vessel.
Fresh Tres Leches.
Packaged chocolate donuts.
*** after work. 30 minutes.
Flaccid existence.

Found humor
in it all.

the world is not a stopwatch.

-

yet,
my gaudy lenses consists of entrapment between two copper hands,
one slightly more deprecating,
one slightly more omnipresent-

but we're surrounded by curious skies,
not a dome comprised of the middle school locker room and the sundress that rainy Sundays begged you to twirl aimlessly in.

in these crevices of half life when I can undress the assembly line to its barren tremors,
i breathe in a light spanning counties worth of mountains and mom's chicken enchiladas.

here,
there are no stifling, expendable hands.

there is the first sip of snowy December espresso.
there is my favorite fleece blanket resting on your ambivalent shoulders.
there are endless timelines of the homeless finding shelter and your roof softening the unyielding razors on my skin.

the copper will always find new ways to imbue itself,
but for now,
my breath will carry on for several spring meadows
and remember all of my forgotten names.

Voices chime from above
An announcement
From the principle
Like any other day

Until words spilled
Into everyone's ears
And something was off
In the tempo of his voice

Confident, normally firm
Today's quivered and broke
Text usually spoken over
Silenced such ignorant teens

"Good Morning"
Still optimism and chance
That news would be absent
That peace would be restored

"I'm sorry to inform you..."
Hope for something minuscule
That enchiladas won't be served
That bus 208 broke down

"Two students passed away"
Possibility it's no one you knew
That it would be someone else's fate
That the burden isn't your own

"Harold and Cynthia Green"
Denial of this truth
That they couldn't really be gone
That you saw them yesterday

The intercom cuts off
The life you knew cuts off
Desire for more information
For more closure

Now sitting in solace
Questions stab into minds
With no answers to cure
With no ability to cope

Why such good friends?
Why such perfect people?
Left with little to nothing
Left with but a flash of vague

There's few things better
than a *** of good rice,
for hunger both physical
and emotional.

It's my one good tie
to what my father denied me.
My mother learned it
from my grandmother,
along with a host of other things,
like spam enchiladas;
something my mother never made.

It's simple too.
You gotta crack the rice first,
it's vital to keep it from sticking.
That's what they say,
and I'm not sure it's true
but I do it anyway.
You oil up a ***
or a deepset pan
and just fry it for a bit.
Then it's cracked
and ready for the rest.

The water needs a bit more too,
but just a bit.
Tomatoes and peppers
or maybe just tomatoes.
Chicken broth or stock too,
we always use Knorr.
I like to add some cumin
to give it a warm smell and taste.
Sometimes you don't add the veggies,
but either way it's a bit more.
Just a bit
because really it's just rice.

But it comes out warm
and smelling of home
and things that could've been home.
It tastes pretty good to boot.
It's my mother's rice
that she taught to me,
but my grandma taught it to her
and it could've been hers.
It should've been abuela's.

Could've been, should've been
it's a sign either way.
It's one of my ties,
the biggest one I think
because there's few things better
than a *** of good rice.

At first glance
You were untouchable
Beauty made physical
Ethereal, perfect
Sweater red, jeans blue

You said I was unreadable
Couldn't see what, why
I paused because I was stunned
Lost my words, I was in love
The first time consumed
Couldn't keep my heart in its place
It's drum, total unrest

Up the stairs, I followed
I would follow you anywhere
To the grave, ashes mixed
Barely, I could speak
My throat clenched

We drove for a while
Even now, memories awash
I gathered my courage
Touched your hand at a light
We had talked through letters
Long through the night, but
Nothing to prepare me, for the touch

You dressed for the night
Dinner, enchiladas, steak and that night
I froze when I saw you
Still to this day
You'll never grow older
My heart beat much harder
Eyes upon you, a moment told you

We drank red wine and each other
Hours, in the night
A massage, you were bolder
We held hands, yours so soft
First time, all I wanted
But in time I asked you
For a kiss that smoldered

That night I saw you
With lips, outlined dark
Perfect, quivering in dream
Bottom, pouting and plump
Curves, tender and touched

I kissed you with fire
Melted ice volcanic
Worshipped your body
But all in love with your soul
Made love in the candles
Held you while nightmares racked
That too short night

But I'll always remember
Our first kiss in twilight
Your eyes were unknowing
That my lips
Kissed in love

By: Reuben Paredes

Make, a snack of tortilla wrap,
Enchiladas, a sauce that put on top,
X, example of food mouth drip,
In, churros a pastry chocolate dip,
Coat, in sugar until it reach the lip,
Overly, delicious recipe you can’t skip.

At first glance
You were untouchable
Beauty made physical
Ethereal, perfect
Sweater red, jeans blue

You said I was unreadable
Couldn't see what, why
I paused because I was stunned
Lost my words, I was in love
The first time consumed
Couldn't keep my heart in its place
It's drum, total unrest

Up the stairs, I followed
I would follow you anywhere
To the grave, ashes mixed
Barely, I could speak
My throat clenched

We drove for a while
Even now, memories awash
I gathered my courage
Touched your hand at a light
We had talked through letters
Long through the night, but
Nothing to prepare me, for the touch

You dressed for the night
Dinner, enchiladas, steak and that night
I froze when I saw you
Still to this day
You'll never grow older
My heart beat much harder
Eyes upon you, a moment told you

We drank red wine and each other
Hours, in the night
A massage, you were bolder
We held hands, yours so soft
First time, all I wanted
But in time I asked you
For a kiss that smoldered

That night I saw you
With lips, outlined dark
Perfect, quivering in dream
Bottom, pouting and plump
Curves, tender and touched

I kissed you with fire
Melted ice volcanic
Worshipped your body
But all in love with your soul
Made love in the candles
Held you while nightmares racked
That too short night

But I'll always remember
Our first kiss in twilight
Your eyes were unknowing
That my lips
Kissed in love

Sent for our amusement, pleasuring admiration,
our funny bones, and galore (glory)  of creation,
Texas squirrels are nuts, like crazy,chasing each other ,
up trees, across the wide expanse of the backyard,
where’s the Davy Crockett sharpshooters when
you really need them? (1)

now that baby rabbit, fearless or stupid, insists on
running on our deck, looking for applause for his skinny
legs hopping neath the chaise lounges, at any ole time,
guess this ain’t the love poem you were expecting,
then again you’d be wrong again and agin, but the
grandkids going, going, gone and applause muted

anyway, one of these days gonna stop and chat with
these two species, what they’re thinking about, the
human menagerie,  its depleted numbers, wherefore
and why, did the reduction of the human stockyard,
emboldened them to occupy territory they’d otherwise
shy away, hear what they say, gonna make a good poem

p.s. the avians yap and caw 24 hrs a day, presumptuous beasties noisy
__________________­_

(1) “In fact there wouldn't be a Texas if it weren't for squirrel stew. Don't condemn the idea of stewing your squirrel problems away. That's right! Davy Crockett and his Tennessee sharpshooters wouldn't have reached puberty if it were not for squirrel stew. Besides, what do you think they ate on the long trip from Tennessee to the Alamo? Enchiladas? Nope! You guessed it--squirrel stew.”

https://aggie-horticulture.tamu.edu/plantanswers/recipes/squirrel.html

Swine divides, our territory dabbled of cold summers and,
Travesty that does no inclusion, to - to the allusion
Of a pike, hollowed, yet deadly, brought forthright from,
The statue of Lord Cortes
You speak the sample in literature,
These demons' tongues are buzzards!
For the chastity... collusion with
and operation of, modern needs
Icy though vicey
Ironically vice a disposition that sold tubes layered to the next
Not enchiladas, put to use for, a sub border wedding or
Gardeners' luncheon banquet,
But for that roll that calls the bank,
And you melt again dr. frank and proclaim your rank!
And the days of diamond battery
For no team is ever more subtle, the treachery
Cry not, you must be strong for this...
Is so, even in our own city
Pounded, ample minded, we should not...
Be so proud as with time un-deluxe and celibacy!
And issues of greater good
Christianity lives across a land,
That chasms can only cross
That of indentured polly ******* back breakers
Talk to me with your soul
On one day of one month i give Tequila a summer twist!
And wish this amnesty
"If i am not the greater keeper, then you've learned, as the passing of
central lands to the Pacific time, I am pain with the daily life, share this
with me... the church of fear"

Vegetarian enchiladas for lunch
Jarritos Mexican soda
Not just one but two
Viva Mexico!

I have gout
Diabetes
Bipolar
But on I go

                Yoko yo yo!