beaded trout

Mañanita

I enter El Hosteria del Laurel and a pigeon crooks her head one side.

The bar is air-conditioned, with legs of pork and cloves of garlic hanging from the ceiling, pictures and text from the legend of Don Juan color the tiles, and all is blessed by the horns of a black bull named "El Magnifico".

Outside the pigeon crooks her small head to the left, dips her beak into the cobblestones.

Because it is still morning, I order a mañanita- a shot of Anisette- like Lala and my Tia: A little something to start the day. A little something to heat the heart from within. But I am a fool who gets drunk easily. I am drunk on Anisette in Seville. And it is 120 degrees outside. I am on vacation and I have just spent 5 euros for a drink I cannot finish.

Outside, the pigeon crooks her small head to one side, dips her beak into the tiny cracks between the cobblestones, a mañanita for the heat.

Nicole Henares


contents of issue 1

A Post-Colonial Irony
Tiffany Midge

The Diversity of Birds at Fort Gibson Lake, Oklahoma
Toni McNeilly

Mañanita
Nicole Henares

Visitation
Stephanie JT Russell

Jump
Trace A. DeMeyer

Legend of the ancient song bird
devorah major

The Sap is Rising
Abena Songbird

Letting Down the Stories
Kimbeerly L. Becker


Nicole Henares Biography

Nicole Henares bites her duende and savors the pieces like the sour seeds of the pomegranate. She lives in San Francisco with two cats and teaches English at Lowell High School.


Permission to publish poems in this one context was granted by the authors, who unless otherwise specified, hold copyright on these works.