• Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

Two poems


Tardive Dyskinesia

She spoke seven languages.

She spoke in tongues.

She spoke in neologisms.

She mumbled her words.

The rolling of her tongue was

more evident

the longer she took all those

psychiatric drugs.

The treatment seemed worse for her

than her symptoms.

Weening her off the medicine

did not stop her tongue

from the rolling and writhing

motions. She was

not the same ever again.

The voices remained.

Her Russian and Italian

words contained words

that did not make any sense

just like the French words.

I could understand her when

she spoke English

and Spanish. She spoke of a

fast train coffin lid.

One Day

Access to toys

that go boom

is a small reminder

that a small soul

one day

could end it all

in a fit of rage,

turn the cold world hot,

tear it all

to pieces

like unwanted mail

in the shredder.

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, born in Mexico, lives in Southern California, and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His first book of poems, Raw Materials, was published by Pygmy Forest Press. His other poetry books, broadsides, and chapbooks, have been published by Alternating Current Press, Deadbeat Press, Kendra Steiner Editions, New American Imagist, New Polish Beat, Poet's Democracy, and Ten Pages Press (e-book).


19 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Two poems by Tamiko Dooley

Sayaka They made her change her name – The same kanji she’d used since she first picked up a pencil To mark on paper. Sayaka. The fortune teller said it was bad luck For the characters of his surname

"Catching the Moon" by Christina Daub

First you must roll it down your street when it is least likely to be noticed, preferably noon. If it yellows while you roll, you must tell it all your names and listen to it croon. Do not face it dir