Adrian Ernesto Cepeda

Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
is the author of the full-length poetry collection Flashes & Verses… Becoming Attractions from Unsolicited Press, the poetry chapbook So Many Flowers, So Little Time from Red Mare Press. Between the Spine is a collection of erotic love poems published with Picture Show Press and La Belle Ajar, a collection of cento poems inspired by Sylvia Plath’s 1963 novel, published in 2020 by CLASH Books. You can connect with Adrian on his website: http://www.adrianernestocepeda.com/

Pinche Norman Rockwell

 
I nunca recognized
las familias Americanas
glowing blanca
on the cover of the Saturday
Evening Post. Norman
Rockwell, your canvas
never reflected our casa
there was always un asiento
for our perrito Winnie,
he held his own spot even
though his head could barely
reach above the table, although
he could never sit still, his cola
wagging, I remember how
his tail would always hit
the back of the seat,
Mami insisted he was
a member of our familia,
so there he was his ojos
glaring at us as we devoured
Mami’s food. I recall Mami
sporting a cansado look,
having been in la cocina
todo el dia while Papi
had his face inside another
libro, and mis hermanos
watching Detroit Lions
perder another Turkey Day
juego. Although Mami
always tried to make it
an Americano holiday,
even pinche Norman Rockwell
could never paint us,
hablando dos idiomas,
la lengua de Colombia
y the slang we spoke
to each other. Rockwell
never imagined Spanglish
fiesta, with Colombiano
cumbians coming from
la sala. Norman could never
feel our ritmo, contando chistes
his paintings could never
portray my color, our reidno—
Rockwell never captured
the glint of our South American
skin tones, his little blanca
shade palate could nunca brush
our shade of brown.

We Are the Same

     “I have stitched life into me like a rare organ.”
     — Sylvia Plath

Head clean shaved
we both have missing
limbs, please don’t try
hiding or covering up
your stunning au natural
self, glowing your mastectomy
that excites me so electrically
in love with the way we
carnally razor each other
softly every morning, balding
naked, in the bathroom
love the buzzing sound
between us, as you squeeze
shaving cream on my temple
always reawakens me
seeing the scars, I love
feeling around, tracing
so much beauty, I kiss
licking and savoring all
that you have, missing
nothing but wanting
I long to leave my tongue
marks suck every blemish
skin tattoo, although the clock
resists, I long to spend every
single tick, savoring each
and every inch of you,
how we love exploring la petite
mort as we rub each other’s scars,
revealing so much, never
finding the need to apologize
more how we choose
to feel instantly alive, nakedly—
we are transformed a new.

          From a 2016 photograph by Laurent Benaïm