LUIS CUAUHTÉMOC BERRIOZÁBAL

LOOK ME UP

There is room in my tent for you. If you ever want to live in nature, look me up. I don’t pay rent and I don’t expect you to pay rent either. I have two soft pillows and warm blankets. If city living gets too hectic, look me up. I am usually on Los Angeles Street or Main Street. If you need a lift, I have a bike. It’s a two-seater. I have a little radio tied up on the handle bars. We could groove to the music and share a cigarette. With the wind in our faces we could cool off or cool down. I know all types of places we could eat for free. I am on the level. Never doubt my words. I’ll make you the Queen of Los Angeles and I will obey your commands. Or we could rule together. I’ll be the King of Skid Row. Just give me a sign and I’ll make it happen. I know some thrift stores where I could get you decent clothes. For a few dollars or more you will be walking in style. I know of a place we could bathe or soak our feet. We will do lots of walking to stay in shape. I’ll splurge on a bus ticket if you want to go to the beach.

NO ONE SAYS ANYTHING

But no one says anything
as winter approaches.
How cold it is with no heat.
Christmas trees catch fire
in the encampment where
the heavens shine no light
on. There is one star but
it is made of foam, a small
star, and one dead person
that was homeless for years,
one of the angels of the streets.

Luis lives in California and works in Los Angeles. His poetry, art, and photography have appeared in Blue Collar Review, Gasconade Review, Pearl Magazine, Nerve Cowboy, and Unlikely Stories.