survival & presence: francisco x. alarcón

Last week, I got to participate in an open mic at The Gallery at Ten Oaks in McMinnville. When I got up there, I made a note that it was my open mic in our new city, and that I always made it a point to find the open mics wherever we moved. Open mics are we you get to see the stories and the imagination of a city.

During my slot, I offered up this week’s poem by Francisco X. Alarcón in both English and Spanish. It was important to me to let the words hang in the air in both languages. I mentioned that between hurricanes in the gulf, forest fires here in the west, and the consequences of rescinding DACA, survival has been a constant in my conversations with family and friends.

alarcón4I would have loved to hear what Alarcón would say about our times now. His death almost two years ago now keeps being fresh on my mind as I find myself compelled to engage with the personal and political in my poems for new reasons. Only through such engagement can we reach new understandings. I say “new,” but the new always takes us back to the old, or, as in the poem below, the present. Alarcón’s poem asserts presence as a subversive act; being present with this poem allows me to be present within myself. Such is the gift Alarcón possessed and left for us in his work.

Natural Criminal – Francisco X. Alarcón
translated by Francisco Aragón

I am
a nomad
in a country
of settlers

a drop
of oil
in a glass
of water

a cactus
where one
can’t and

I am
fresh and
living wound

my crime
has been being
what I’ve been
all my life


Naturaleza criminal – Fransico X. Alarcón

un nómada
en un país
de sedentarios

una gota
de aceite
en un vaso
de agua

un nopal
que florece
en donde
no se puede
ni se debe

una herida
todavía viva
de la historia

mi crimen
ha sido ser
lo que he sido
toda mi vida

from From the Other Side of the Night/del otro lado de la noche: New and Selected Poems


Happy naturalezando!


* special feature: Kenneth P. Gurney

This week The Friday Influence is proud to feature the work of Kenneth P. Gurney!

Ken and I struck up a friendship during my brief time in Albuquerque.  He runs the Adobe Walls Open Mic out of Page 1 Books, the used bookstore where I worked.  Once a month – while helping clean up and close – I would get to overhear the great community of poets he fosters there.

His poetry is marked by his background in art – surrealistic images abound – yet, there is always some of his sense of awe and humor throughout his work, something altogether his own.

Find out more about Ken and his poetry here.

Since moving, we have sent poems on postcards to each other.  I am happy to share some of the poems that have made getting the mail – where bills and rejection letters abound – a bit of a treat.


Missive – Kenneth P. Gurney

I wrote a letter to the earth

on the bottom of my bare feet

then walked five miles

on grassy lanes that ran

adjacent to greening fields

and two wood lots.

While resting

under the broad shade

of a century oak

I checked my soles and determined

the blue ink to be all gone

& I considered my letter delivered.


Catastrophe – Kenneth P. Gurney

Spring fails to create the perfect green

as the cat laps chartreuse spilled

from the dropped shot glass

where a trail of mucky pawprints

scub across the sparkling kitchen tile

like so many clouds

unable to congregate

and expel a healthy Albuquerque rain.


Happy congregating!

* jose