Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal: “The Pipe Smoker”

 

 

 

The Pipe Smoker

The pipe was being smoked
by the invisible man I suppose
or by an actual ghost. It was
suspended in the air and the
smoke left its aroma in the air.

I thought twice about grabbing
that pipe. I did not want an
elbow to my ribs or to my face.
Who was I to stop an unseen
being from smoking a pipe?

Worst of all, what if I reached
for it and I missed, or if the pipe
was a figment of my imagination?
What if I was seeing things?
That would really drive me mad.

.

 

About the Author: Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal lives in California and works in Los Angeles. His poetry has appeared in The Abyss, Ariel Chart, As It Out To Be, Blue Collar Review, and Unlikely Stories. Deadbeat Press, Kendra Steiner Editions, New Polish Beat, Poet’s Democracy, Propaganda Press, Pygmy Forest Press, and Ten Pages Press have published his poetry books and chapbooks.

 

More by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal:

Beautiful Mournings

Eat Rain

Dracula

 

Image Credit: Adrien Alban Tournachon “Dog smoking a pipe” (1860) Digital image courtesy of the Getty’s Open Content Program.

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal: “Beautiful Mournings”

 

 

Beautiful Mournings

Do you object
to beautiful mournings?
The path to the
cemetery with stones and

roses. Do you like
the fumes from open graves?
Who are you to
whine and complain? You’re dead.

The rotten sun 
is the cook of your skin.
Nature’s gift for
one and all. Keep your dead 

eye on the sky.
Watch the flowers bloom as
your stench 
perfumes the collapsed trees.

The flies buzz on
not worrying of health.
Their stinking breath
worsens in summertime.

In this world the
babbling mouths speak and shout.
The dead man sleeps
soundly and with such ease.

 

About the Author: Born in Mexico, Luis lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles, CA. His poetry has appeared online and in print over the years. His poetry has appeared in Blue Collar Review, Kendra Steiner Editions, Mad Swirl, Pygmy Forest Press, Red Fez Publications, Unlikely Stories, Yellow Mama Magazine, and ZYX.

 

More by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal:

Dracula

Eat Rain

 

Image Credit: Caspar David Friedrich “Graveyard Under Snow” (1826) Public Domain

Revisiting 2019: Our 50 Most Popular Posts of the Year

 

Dear As It Ought To Be Magazine Readers,

As we enter the next decade, I want to thank all of the writers and readers who have made our tenth year so successful. I take enormous pride in working with so many talented and inspiring writers. Without your brilliance and generosity of spirit and intellect, none of this would be possible. It has been a great privilege to publish your work on our site, and I hope to continue featuring diverse perspectives, challenging ideas, and unique voices for years to come. As a way to look back on what we accomplished in 2019, I have complied the 50 most popular posts of the year based on internet traffic and clicks.

Thank you again to everyone who wrote for, read, and promoted AIOTB Magazine in 2019. Let the 20s roar again!

Chase Dimock
Managing Editor

 

Poetry

Jason Baldinger:

Ishrat Bashir:

Jai Hamid Bashir:

Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal:

Jeffrey Betcher:

Ace Boggess:

Daniel Crocker:

John Dorsey:

Ryan Quinn Flanagan:

Tony Gloeggler:

Nathan Graziano:

Cord Moreski:

Jeanette Powers:

Stephen Roger Powers:

Jonathan K. Rice:

Kevin Ridgeway:

Damian Rucci:

Anna Saunders:

Larry Smith:

Nick Soluri:

William Taylor Jr.:

Alice Teeter:

Tiffany Troy:

Bunkong Tuon:

Agnes Vojta:

Kory Wells:

Brian Chander Wiora:

Dameion Wagner:

 

Nonfiction

Daniel Crocker:

Nathan Graziano:

John Guzlowski:

Cody Sexton:

Carrie Thompson:

 

Reviews 

Chase Dimock:

Mike James:

 

Photo Credit: Fire Works At New Year’s Eve via Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain

“Eat Rain” By Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

 

 

Eat Rain

We can eat rain
when our teeth fall
out; Mexican
beer from the bar.

The sky will be
the food mart; the 
sea as well. We
can eat a tear.

No one will care.
Not Washington,
not the food banks,
and not the clouds.

We can’t eat fire.
New teeth won’t grow.
Ice cubes are
hard. This I know.

I have eaten
up my own sweat,
a pool of tears.
I am human.

I get quite starved.
I love the clouds.
The rain they drop.
I wait under.

And I eat rain,
and I eat rain,
fabulous rain,
clear, falling rain.

 

About the Author: Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, born in Mexico, lives in Southern California, and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles, CA. His latest poems will appear in Fearless, Former People, Piker Press, Right Hand Pointing, Winamop, and Yellow Mama Magazine.

 

Also By Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal:

Dracula

When I was a Child

 

Image Credit: Claude Monet “Belle-Ile, Rain Effect” (1886) public domain

“Dracula” by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

 

Dracula

Dracula is in charge of the blood bank.
His bloody mouth smile sickens me.
His lips make sucking motions.
Sometimes they appear to tremble.
He’s like a kid in a candy store; I can’t
imagine how such things can happen.
The sinking feeling has sunk in.
I see him swallowing blood as if
blood was going out of existence.
I cannot believe my eyes. I cannot 
believe the things they see, Old
Dracula at the blood bank, eyes
looking up at the sky where the moon
reflects his shadow as blood spills
from his lips. He imagines that’s how
dreams should be. He has painted
his face and feet red with the blood
of men and women just declared dead,
from the suddenly wounded, even children.
Old Dracula does not care how small they are.
Sometimes he sleeps. Sometimes he’s up all day.
When the sun rises he remains in the blood bank.
I see him covered with blood. He is always covered
with blood. He is a mosquito addicted to blood.
It must be a curse to have such horrible thirst 
and never feel full.

 

About the Author: Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, born in Mexico, lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His first book of poems, Raw Materials, was published by Pygmy Forest Press. His poetry has been published by Alternating Current Press, Blue Collar Review, Counterpunch, Deadbeat Press, New Polish Beat, Poet’s Democracy, and Ten Pages Press. His latest chapbook, Make the Light Mine, was published by Kendra Steiner Editions.

 

More by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal:

“When I Was a Child”

 

Image Credit: Still from Nosferatu (1922)

“When I Was a Child” by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

 

When I Was a Child

When I was a child
I had no need for tennis shoes.
I walked the unpaved 
roads of Zacatepec in sandals
sometimes barefoot and shirtless.

We ate small green mangos
from the neighbor’s trees
plucked sugarcane 
from passing trucks.
We had no need for money
to entertain ourselves.

Video games were not yet invented.
Shooting marbles was our game.
We played futbol in dusty fields
pretended to ride horses
on broomsticks.

Our black and white television
only had two channels.
I watched the Lone Ranger;
he spoke Spanish like me.

.

About the Author: Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal, born in Mexico, lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His first book of poems, Raw Materials, was published by Pygmy Forest Press. His poetry has been published by Alternating Current Press, Blue Collar Review, Counterpunch, Deadbeat Press, New Polish Beat, Poet’s Democracy, and Ten Pages Press. His latest chapbook, Make the Light Mine, was published by Kendra Steiner Editions.

 

Image Credit: “Calle de Guadeloupe, Mexico” by William Henry Jackson Digital image courtesy of the Getty’s Open Content Program