Valiente

the first time
I saw someone die
was when
I was 10 yrs old
from the balcony
of my apartment
in VAN NUYS

he had been stabbed
in the stomach and back
several times

the paramedics tried
but there was too much
blood lost
and more was coming out
like a little unstoppable
volcano
his sister
PALOMA
was crying hysterically
grabbing and grabbing
at her mother
his younger brother
TONY
just stood there
probably in shock
watching everything
unfold in front of him
in slow motion
without feeling
like a movie
and the older brother
CHICLE
took off looking
for the guy
who stabbed him

my dad and mom
came out to look
then went back in
like they were used
to it
and they tried to get
me to go inside
as if to hide
me from something
but I was small
and stealth
so I snuck out
and stood there
staring
not feeling much
being only 10
the sun setting down
over their pink house
noticing how clean
and nice the
paramedics looked
and then
looking at the family
dressed in clothes
bought at the local swapmeet
that always managed
to stay dirty

but he died
and his name was
VALIENTE CONTRERAS
and the neat paramedics
placed the blue sheet
over his head
but it was a short sheet
and his pointy cowboy boots
stuck up ostentatiously
and everyone cried and moaned
as they took him
away

then everyone went back inside
and hugged his or her family
and tried not to think
about tomorrow but
like death
tomorrow will always happen
and all you can do is hug and wait


Hemingway at Los Angeles Valley College

we were being taught
how to read
Hemingway

because there was
a lot of metaphor
and the ambiguity of
interpretation needed
the proper guidance
evidently

“the mountains
when he writes about
them
it means strength”

and we all
wrote it down
in our notebooks
waiting for an
elaboration of context
got none
and highlighted
“strength”

“ok, and a river
means rebirth
a sort of baptism”

we waited again
and highlighted “rebirth”

“the night is uncertain
and death is
more likely to
come then
so Hemingway’s
protagonist will
not sleep until
sunrise
when he feels
safer”

we took notation
circled “death”
with our highlighters

“Rain means sadness
that something bad
is happening or
will happen”

“sadness” –check
we nod
 
“the main character
will out drink
all the others and
not get drunk
it’s a sign of
endurance
strength
drunkenness is foolish
and weak”

the professor took
a quick break
to suck on his
Starbucks Frappuccino
topped with Caramel
and whip cream
Venti size

he looked around
the classroom
remembering Viet Nam
caught sight of
the sliced
bright afternoon sun
coming in through
the window blinds
stretching out
on our desks

we were all looking
at our notes
underling
highlighting
awaiting the next
rehearsed line
in the script

he had both hands
on the podium
laying limp
thinking
about the moist
jungle leaves
of Ben Hoa
the distant gunfire
his fat head shining
with tiny beads
of sweat
seemingly
out of breath
and too embarrassed
to go on

---

   Luis Rivas writes with a detached and stark beauty that captures the desperation buzzing around him. He works at a porn shop in California's San Fernando Valley where he steps over puddles of cum and reads D.H. Lawrence in the bathroom.  He's been in a few online lit mags, all of which no longer exist (R.I.P.), and rejected by twice as many. 

• grafitti messageboard •