By Julieta Corpus Among the dormant orange trees Along the frontage road A graceful mockingbird, perched low, Begins his strident song. Below, on the ground, a faded tent Is flapping in the breeze While tattered clothes dry on a branch Beneath the Valley heat.

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by Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky I love turning pages in twilight. Easy to see, if the slanted orange light enters. More turned pages, and some squinting, Turning the book to catch light. But the orange goes, the words blur, And it is time to squint to the end of the chapter. Longer days, more pages, And [...]

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by Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky Above the Rio Bravo, the Mexican side, The levee path, dry and cracked, early Summer heat. Chipped concrete steps, dropping a level, So much brush, thin, waving, weedy …. The steps end at the level, End in trash, next to Mexican-placed Warnings that caution crossers of Swirling pools, currents, unseen depths [...]

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by Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky Border city Matamoros. Hundreds in a wet line on the sidewalk outside the American Consulate. Papers in hand, interview soon, and just maybe, permission to cross the bridge. I avert my eyes. Fortune of birth has kept me from the line.

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by Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky …and I’d told her friend that I always liked her, since I met her in class. Maybe she told her, maybe she didn’t. But I saw her the other day, after she’d parked her van outside a church. I walked up to her and asked her if her friend had told [...]

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By Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky …and in the Brownsville Public Library Main Branch on Central Boulevard, babies scream, more videos are being checked out than books and crumbs from muffins; yes, eating in now fine in the library as long as you buy its food, fall to the dirty carpet …. …and in a restaurant, Winter [...]

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by Rudy H. Garcia A lady lives so fair in thee Tell me… or maybe… could it an Angle be? And if by grace it shall be so I feel, I think, I feel, I know The spirit who does dwell inside of thee Is kind and Godly, for this, I see. I know the [...]

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by Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky “…what a f—-’ day!” Renee yells at the US Border agents. “You’ve been to Happy Hour!” an agent says. Renee’s sister, Angie, is quiet. They, blonde hair shining yellow in the Matamoros cold and rain and puddles, were lost, looking for a cab. I told them they could save about ten [...]

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by Gene Novogrodsky With mushrooms, the omelet puffs, Yellow, with mushroom lumps …. Coffee from Chiapas, Oranges from Nuevo Leon …. Sun through the windows, The cathedral pointed and high Into the northern Mexico blue ….

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from ArtsRGV Local writers to present original scripts at April 10 event in San Benito The Writers’ Forum of the Narciso Martinez Cultural Arts Center will showcase original writings at their first-ever public event on April 10 in San Benito at 6:30 p.m. Songs, poetry and short stories, all composed by area residents, will be [...]

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by Gene Novogrodsky From summer’s heat and exhaust fumes To winter’s chill and the same exhaust fumes, The grey cur takes its corner, Sometimes on the sidewalk, Sometimes on a lawn, Sometimes in the street, A living cur, thinning, wanting food and water, Thinning, and still feinting at motion, any motion ….

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Poems by Gene Novogrodsky Mouths Never in light, Never in awake. The depth of a dream kiss. A dream embrace, A dream passion, Uncomplicated, Correct, Together, Before the light …. Hands On Elbows Guiding them To doctors’, To stores,

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From Gene’s Notebook …by the mud and twisted limbs of the Red River in North Dakota, I come upon a couple with a big white dog. I ask about the Spring flood that left the the mud and twisted limbs. The man, in a thick East European accent, tells me that it was mighty flood. [...]

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By Gene Novogrodsky Transition Twilight passed, Sliver of silver moon, Dim outline in the south …. Caged, Leashed and Free She walks with a yellow bird in a dark cage, The cage swinging, bird perched on a rod. She walks with a white duck, leashed with clothesline, Behind her, needing a pull, sometimes. A white [...]

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Road stops …and the former West Texas high school footballer, now driving an 18-wheeler between Texas and the Pacific, rolled in around 5 a.m., 600 Christmas trees, each weighing between 80 and 90 pounds, each fresh, green and woodsy (piney, too), and crept into the back of his cab and went to sleep …. …about [...]

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from Gene’s Notebook …the skinny woman comes from under the underpass, and I tell her that the homeless shelter beats the underpass. “No, it doesn’t. I don’t want anyone telling me what to do,” and she goes back to the underpass’ damp wall. …and the young man is walking around at dusk. I hand him [...]

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by Gene Novogrodsky For Brenda N. Riojas Black curls. A cousin’s granddaughter, A little girl, identification Israeli. And as she grows, She will hear hate of Arabs, Palestinians, Muslims, Hate severe, Hate in jokes, Or, might she hear words of Commonality?

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by Gene Novogrodsky He kept a ten in his wallet, Had for years, just in case, And when he died, we opened His wallet and the ten Was still there ….

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by Ruth Wagner Pushed Aside We see the wizened woman With a cigarette butt in wrinkled mouth. She nods and pushes her grocery cart. He, about a half block behind her, Pushes his cart. They travel together: Protection? Companionship? A week earlier another of the “Pushed aside,” she, older now, With peppered hair, Sitting on [...]

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by Gene Novogrodsky A U-Haul passes, and I wave; They lamely return the wave, Away by the second, And far from mind and space they pass …. A U-Haul passes, and I wave; They’re tired, but energetically return the wave. Away by the second, To come to mind, to be recalled …. A U-Haul passes, [...]

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By Gene Novogrodsky Picked in heat, Loaded in heat, Then, on truck to shed, Rain and wind, And the okra (bombo) With its white seedy insides Falls to the road, Is crushed into pulp, Green slime on asphalt, But most gets to the shed, For gumbo, yes, gumbo with bombo ….

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from Gene’s Notebook …and she is counting money, and also using a Lone Star Card …. She wants to put her chicken back, and get a cheaper one. The cashier tell her that would be fine, but then adds: “The larger chicken, though it costs more, is tastier.” The woman listens and says, “Don’t put [...]

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from ArtsRGV.com The University of Texas – Pan American Library will host the second of its “Soul of a People: Writing America’s Story” presentations on Thursday, September 17, with a visit of one of the foremost scholars of Texas literature, Dr. Don Graham.  Graham will speak to an audience of students, faculty, staff, and the [...]

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by Gene Novogrodsky We old men enter McDonald’s yellow As dawn breaks and sharp Venus and faint Mars Spend in the white dawn …. We take separate tables, coffee, some cream, Often sugar, open newspapers and sit and sit …. The drive-in windows are busier than the walk-ins, The walk-ins for us, the old,

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by Gene Novogrodsky Leave the city green to see the drought, To the country’s brown …. Three goats bite for stubble. Six hens scratch for stubble. A funeral procession, A hundred or more vehicles, lights on, To the dry dirt heaped graveside.

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