Sift
By Moncho Alvarado
In elementary Dad gave me Don Pedro and Coke
gave it to me slowly like sipping from Christ’s cup
He left me with Manny in a green bedroom
at the Hotel 8 on San Fernando Road
tv buzzing white noise
door clicked
Manny’s hands toilet paper soft
strong enough to touch
weak enough to rip
It’ll be fine he whispered
hold on
pull
forwards
backwards
don’t let go
don’t
don’t
A night in a friend’s pool during high school
the light outside looked like Manny’s room
no moon just light years
I turned around
breathed water
saw stars
oscillate
After the thing with Manny
Dad took me out for tortas
said don’t tell Mari
I’ll buy you those X-Men toys
Just don’t tell her
At a graveyard guard gig in college
I shined light on a galaxy of glass
smaller than me coming from dirt
through cracks of concrete
root to crown to node and blade
Then I saw a deer look at me
I at it
eyes became my dad’s eyes
when he handed me a torta
and another X-Men toy
I bent down
my hands led by instinct
as if they were elephant trunks
ripping leaves from trees