Poem by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal


Green River

Green river,
do you see I cannot swim?
Green river,
things are getting interesting.
Come on now,
even the moon is wondering.
Orion’s horse,
spits out green light tonight.
Dark shadow
turns to green before my eyes.
At nightfall
the green river pulls me in.

Green river,
tell me this is just a dream.
The river
turns my hair and flesh green.
Come on now,
at least teach me how to float.
Dawn beckons,
who will find my wet remains?
The wind cries.
Green river bears the blame.
The wind cries
and its tears are green and cold.


Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, born in Mexico, lives in Southern California, and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His poetry book, Raw Materials, was published by Pygmy Forest Press. His poems and chapbooks have been published by Alternating Current Press, Deadbeat Press, Kendra Steiner Editions, New Polish Beat, Poet’s Democracy, Unlikely Stories, Yellow Mama, and ZYX.

Artist Sally Deskins is an artist and writer focusing on perspectives of women including her own. She’s been published internationally and exhibited nationally and has curated several exhibitions and books.



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