Ulyses Razo
∞
When I was 8
I was in my basement, taking
Ritz cracker after Ritz
cracker out of a broken brown plastic tube:
& handing each circle to myself
as an offering: I
was the Father
& I
was the Son.
I took each difficult & slightly salted
terrain onto my tongue and
chewed, which you’re not supposed to do—
I was told this by a parent,
but I don’t remember which, now.
I know I always wondered
how the adults managed
to pretend there wasn’t something so holy
within their mouths / they walked so still
never moving their jaws
up
or down.
I could never help it.
Being given
the bread,
leaving
the Father behind,
I had my first supper.
My head tilted, the world
on its side,
I ate
and ate
& ate
I was in my basement, taking
Ritz cracker after Ritz
cracker out of a broken brown plastic tube:
& handing each circle to myself
as an offering: I
was the Father
& I
was the Son.
I took each difficult & slightly salted
terrain onto my tongue and
chewed, which you’re not supposed to do—
I was told this by a parent,
but I don’t remember which, now.
I know I always wondered
how the adults managed
to pretend there wasn’t something so holy
within their mouths / they walked so still
never moving their jaws
up
or down.
I could never help it.
Being given
the bread,
leaving
the Father behind,
I had my first supper.
My head tilted, the world
on its side,
I ate
and ate
& ate
The son of immigrants, Ulyses Razo is a graduate from the University of Washington, Seattle. He writes poetry and has written fiction, creative nonfiction, film criticism, and translations of Spanish-language prose and poetry. He has also worked with collage and erasure. His work has been published in Roi Fainéant, Outcast Press, MORIA, The Metaworker, Life and Legends, and Months to Years. A librarian, he has lived in London and Seattle and currently resides in Washington.