Chiltepín

​

It’s a small red pepper from central México that

not long ago 

made my grandfather cry and

 

sweat.      Sweating into his menudo he would stir in spoonfuls of that dried Chiltepín. Pinned

are these memories of this 

stocky

 

     old man

 

full of pride; I wondered when was the last time he went to confession

for his transgressions to his god.

 

God, Jesus and even to la Virgencita de Guadalupe

Mi apá did not shed a tear at his father’s funeral

 

an event for the living,

where I cried big tears for a man that I wasn’t always a fan of.

 

Of the way every unwarranted lesson came with a wagging finger

or how he always needed to be the strongest.

The strongest amongst the weakest isn’t really a

strength      pero

                       una ventaja

 

I have only seen Mi apá cry once and 

it wasn’t at his father’s funeral.