Written during Juan Felipe Herrera’s Reading at the Crest Theatre
Presented by the Sacramento Poetry Center
mountains sometimes wear a sombrero of clouds
as guacamole waterfalls from their bellies
on to chips floating in salsa ponds
above ceviche swimming through lime juice
But there is no salt!
just fresh water Cotija
mixed with Queso Oaxaca
melted between poetry tortillas
and a big ol giant pot of beans
and chile rilleno
chicken in mole
But there are no tacos!
our poetry tortillas are too big