Food i can’t eat: Sesame seeds Drumstick
chicken All the seasons and the change in climate Clawed chest
rising and crumbling Smothered in a bed of mole The mold
growing on a Cold San Francisco Apartment ceiling Red-orange rice
Ears burn My hands hold on to the wall as my legs drag past the
smell of dark chocolate beneath cinnamon Chile guajillo and cloves
High fever Blistered lower lip Boiled egg slices i’d eat but i’d
choke Heigh-ho Heigh-ho It’s off to bed i go A piercing whistle Hissing rapid
A hitch A hollow rattle Another puff Liquids only Barbed-wire wrapped
around my neck My stomach growls It eats itself Then a para-
noiac pause—too brief Will whistle-shriek-screech-howl
ever ㅤend?
Sweat-soaked pillow
and bedsheet
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWhite onion
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤslices ㅤㅤbathed
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤin salt and ㅤㅤlemon juice.
Osmani R. Ochoa is a queer Mexican-Xicano poet and longtime local and national organizer for immigrant and worker rights. Their writing addresses themes of immigration, queerness, and borders. They won the Abode Press Chapbook Prize for ‘How to Survive an Asthma Attack in a Climate Apocalypse’ and is pursuing an MFA at Randolph College.