Mario Escobar   BYSTANDERS We have witnessed red currents of air mothers disappearing in the mud where frogs hold their dialogue children’s heads hanging ropes choking eyes open dry tears marking the killing We witnessed arid currents of silence bullets breaking the poetic meter of words in the land known as El Salvador MY MOTHER'S BAGS My mother has two bags full of mysteries and like many Salvadoran women she is very protective of her bags As a child I was never capable of breaking the Morse code that came out of her bags one day while the past had stationed in her lips I was able to see what she had in her bags In her first bag she carries red steps the desire of a gentle touch scars of lonely nights permanent blisters the punch of a man unwanted sex unwanted charges broken windows locked doors trembling hopes In her second bag she carries schizophrenic thoughts war tears the silhouette of a tropical night forgotten dreams violent lovers painful farewells salon kisses dried flowers suicide attempts and the rhythm of a Quijote she calls son. Yes, my mother has two bags beneath her eyes David Carlson Space Between Us 2010, oil and acrylic on wood 30" x 30" see more work by David Carlson       A WAR CALL Don’t be frightened love if you hear the bells of darkness spring out of the fiery vortex of my mouth If I substitute a shirt for iron armor and my body takes the form of the jaguar leaping over the steps of Tazumal Don’t be frightened love those are the sounds of war replacing my poetic words for the cry of the drum Don’t be frightened love if I return lamenting the decisions of the bullets crying out for the riverbanks of your eyes and pleading for the soft bed of your words Don’t be frightened love If I summon the anger of the lencas and pipiles Don’t be frightened love if I weep like a child in the luminous evening of your kiss Don’t be frightened love it's just a war call   I HAVE A POEM I have a poem, a sobbing poem, a poem of unwanted refugees—nasty poem, nasty century. I give you the blood of the past and the present. Here is the excrement of my tongue, dirty century, nasty century. Dark poem. I’ve cried the tears of those lost in the desert: the undocumented death. I’ve lived that experience, among the headless bodies, the cutoff hands, the torture mothers, the disappeared sons and fathers, and the raped daughters. I’ve jumped the border with my defeated flag, I’ve knocked on your door. I’ve knocked on your door many times, I’ve knocked on your door but you don’t listen to the pounding of the heart. I have a thousand stories and millions of tears to give you. Pain knows me too well. Pain knows those still at bay, crossing the desert, or jumping the fence. They will be knocking at your door. Please answer to your blunders. I will say no more. Time to leave you alone with this dirty and nasty poem. Dirty century. Nasty century. Dark poem... POSTWAR SYNDROME I give you the twisted male with the scent of flesh petals Look carefully the naked twigs of my stare grow violently in each syllable welcome to the theatre under my skin tragedy in the nude agonizing breath wounded stained I am hopes retreat down my throat Enter the trance wild sorrow under a burning June Look at death mounting galloping horse with no direction over shattered bones I do not pay it is always a free admission Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! shuffle the feet snap the fingers twice shuffle the feet once more snap the fingers once what a lark! this is how I dance in the dark   Mario Escobar is the author of Gritos Interiores (Cuzcatlan Press, 2005), a book of poems written in response to California Proposition 187. He is founder of Izote Press and co-founder of UCLA IDEAS (Improving Dreams Education Access and Success). Born in El Salvador, he is a child of civil war who came to the US at age 12 and was raised in South Central and East Los Angeles, attaining asylum in this country in 2006. He holds a BA in Spanish Literature and Chicano Studies from UCLA, a Masters degree from Arizona State University, and is currently a PhD candidate at the University of Maryland College Park. Escobar has lectured on the trauma of child soldiers at the University of Santa Barbara, the University of Los Angeles, the University of Southern California, and Arizona State University. He currently lives in Maryland with his linda Chinana compañera Karla Escobar-Gutierrex and their three beautiful daughters.   Published in Volume 13, Number 2, Spring 2012.