BIO
Jesus Cortez is an undocumented immigrant who resides in West Anaheim, California. He writes from the perspective of a man raised by his single mother. Through his writing, he attempts to bring the stories rarely told about Anaheim and the people in it.
Reboso
She was just a little girl
when someone told her to hang
her reboso on the back of her house,
because los reyes magos
came every sixth of January to give presents—
She ran to the back of her house
the following morning to find
an empty reboso hanging,
she was forgotten by los reyes magos
as she was forgotten by the world—
She was only twelve when she carried
her first child in her reboso, a holy shelter,
she wished that the child would never
feel the madness of the world outside,
she wished he would eternally remain in her bosom—
She wrapped her grandchildren in
her holy reboso, as they grew and spoke
a different language, but loved her nonetheless,
the matriarch and her reboso,
she was the mother of them all—
She was taken to her gods
in her reboso, as the earth took
in her beloved child,
now we pray to her beloved memory,
and her holy reboso that cradled us all.
Anaheim By Night
The old woman looked out the window
expecting divine signs to appear
before her eyes; the shadows
of midnight broken by blinking
helicopters, and then the inevitable
siren; she had wished to give him
a better future, if only she could
get him to live through his present—
she remembered the songs he
would sing as a child, or when he proudly
showed her his latest drawing,
even when she was too busy to smile, too angry
to see his; and now as she caresses
her rosary beads, she wonders
why her child chose the night over
a home broken by more than one
tragedy, the answer was in her
question—and yet she kept hoping
that the door would open and her boy
would appear through the door so
she could hold him tightly and give
him all the kisses she missed at
his kindergarten play, and the smiles
at his first communion—the silence
returned as she fell asleep, whispering
to god and the city to let her boy
live another night, maybe even another day.
Anaheim Monuments
There is a statue, near the homeless camps,
among the bodies of men and women
who have become like the grass at La Palma Park
Surrounded by a fence to keep the new neighbors
from leaving and their dogs from escaping
stands the monument to Bruno the dog
Hero to the badges and martyr for the cause of
All Lives Matter, proud stands Bruno as
proud as the Statue of Liberty and false promises
A few blocks away remain monuments for the
martyrs of a city in denial—sometimes
you wish you were a dog so your life could matter.