Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Swimming By Alex Z. Salinas


So what does he do? He hunkers down. Gets busy. Writes some of the worst verse imaginable—plunges forward. Who gives a shit? Nobody reads anyway. A Chicano poet’s work is never done. Ever. He must never be content. Must never fall out of love with failure. Must swim in obscure lakes until his arms, his lungs, give out. Then he slams into a branch. The tree of life must be nearby. Larry Rios, picture your book on a dusty bookshelf. In a forgotten library. Names of the dead. Voices. Yours among them. Delusions of grandeur—poets’ lifeblood. Drink up. Swallow.







Alex Z. Salinas lives in San Antonio, Texas. He is the author of WARBLES, a full-length poetry collection from Hekate Publishing (2019). His short fiction, poetry and op-eds have appeared in various print and digital publications, including in Under The Bleachers, and he serves as poetry editor for the San Antonio Review. He holds an M.A. in English Literature and Language from St. Mary’s University.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Scott Simons By Scott Simons Yet Not Written By Scott Simons

Sometimes I question why farts don't always catch fire. Then the crap runs down my leg, and I realize I really should have borrowed a pa...