Gary Soto

(April 12, 1952 / Fresno, California)

Mission Tire Factory, 1969


All through lunch Peter pinched at his crotch,
And Jesús talked about his tattoos,
And I let the flies crawl my arm, undisturbed,
........................
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  • Lee Mack (12/22/2009 10:08:00 AM)

    the real poetry is conscience transcending what we make of moments -of events that
    it seems to us as real as it gets -we take them with us because we need them to be real -then conscience everlasting gets into a poem where the real thing is... you put it there in this poem my brother (Report) Reply

  • Lee Mack (12/22/2009 9:02:00 AM)

    the real poetry is conscience transcending what we make of moments -of events that
    it seems to us as real as it gets -we take them with us because we need them to be real -then conscience everlasting gets into a poem where the real thing is... you put it there in this poem my brother (Report) Reply

  • James Mcfetridge (11/8/2009 1:36:00 PM)

    Gary Soto takes us into the dark & dangerous world of work from his youth. The gritty, bleak mood & tone reminds me of John Steinbeck's 'In Dubious Battle' (Report) Reply

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