Gavin Garza Will Have His Revenge On Fresno
The fires that swallow up the silent mountains are yours The floods that drown the deserts and the valleys are yours — Lingua Ignota
by Gavin Garza
SATURN HAS STUMBLED FROM ITS ORBIT!
I was setting fiddle stands, still getting comfortable
calling you my abuser, when you turned the corner
with what felt like 60 tribunes—our old friends,
some silly, stupid Fresno shit—
and played coy.
Smiled and waved and slaked your eyes,
eyes
with nothing behind them,
the whole truth
naked.
For the record, I am done being the better man;
this laurel tree has thinned with testimony.
I'll streak Saturn's rings across my crown,
Epaphroditus will trace your thumb against your throat.
I strum Fresno twice a day to keep my hands clean.
Don’t apologize now just because you’ll look human.
Pruébame. Fucker, I dare you.
When Saturn descends, I’ll be fiddling.
Gavin Garza was raised in the Institute of Basic Life Principles, a Christian cult. Today, he is a Chicano poet and memoirist studying English at UC Berkeley. His work has been nominated for Best of the Net and can be found in The Acentos Review, MudRoom, Eucalyptus Lit, Bleach!, plus more. Garza lives in the San Francisco Bay Area but stays rooted to the San Joaquin Valley. Find him on Instagram @gavinopoet.
