We cannot be more excited, pues, to start our ninth year of existence with this, our tenth issue!

amid rising nouns and verbs / sidewalk adjectives 10 pesos /

“Esto,” she said, “es el rosa / that never limits boundaries, /

You forget Juárez. You don't even look over I-10 on your way to campus; for all you know, it's still El Paso. El Paso, who birthed you, who took you in after the divorce and sheltered you in warmth, made you American, instead of Mexican, like your Father, but deep down you don't feel like her offspring.

His tongues are powerful, with minds of their own, like three elephant trunks always dancing in the air. Not like they would ever cause any real damage, they just purple the skin.

On the roadside, we stop / for an economy of skins / that hang on a rope: /

Will 1934 be the year the jíbaro beats the Goliath that is the sugarcane industry?

Sometimes, a dream is also a memory.