With Hands on the Wheel

She goes on driving, does not carry a gun. She has no gun, never will. Do not judge the harmony of rain on the windshield.

She waits, making a stop. Clouds; veins like the depth of the sea. One time you heard gunshots, now fallen in the red shadow of a traffic light.

You hid almost all the way under the steering wheel, rain tapping on your window, going down like sobbing streams, tears, tears, tears.

You never wanted to see or be complicit in the death of others. You hid almost all the way under the steering wheel. Drops of rain on your window, going down

when you sigh, like streams of sobbing and sweet waters that irrigate the street before rusting away. You never wanted to see or be complicit in the fate of this war

The streets flooded and cars were stranded. The bitterness of hope renounced the street in a profusion of soft wind.

 
 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Édgar J. Ulloa Luján is a performance artist and poet from Ciudad Juárez, México. He founded a pioneer multimedia poetry blog (mijuaritos.wordpress.com), when his hometown was the most dangerous city in the world. His performances negotiate border politics, cultural memory, trauma, immigration and violence in addition to instigating audience and public participation. Ulloa received his BA in Literature at UTEP and his MFA in Creative Writing at New York University. He is pursuing a Ph.D. in Spanish Literature at Georgetown University.

 

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