Sandra Cisneros Poems

Before you became a cloud, you were an ocean, roiled and
murmuring like a mouth. You were the shadow of a cloud
crossing over a field of tulips. You were the tears of a
...

My cousins and I,
we don't marry.
We're too old
...

You bring out the Mexican in me.
The hunkered thick dark spiral.
The core of a heart howl.
...

That was enough
for me to forgive you.
To spirit a tiger
...

You come from that country
where the bitter is more bitter
and the sweet, sweeter.
...

Arturito, when you were born
the hospital gasped when
they fished you from your fist of sleep,
...

This is my father.
See? He is young.
He looks like Errol Flynn.
...

Wachale! She's a black lace bra
kind of woman, the kind who serves
up suicide with every kamikaze
...

December 24th and we're through again.

This time for good I know because I didn't
...

Mornings I still
reach for you before
opening my eyes.
...