Having an American passport is like having your heart ripped out while being unable to go to the doctor. My Mexican hands are still brown in Europe. I just did Portugal, Italy, Hungary and now Greece in three months. Hopefully they won’t take my heart and soul by this age of thirty. I tell SFSU Professor Alejandro Murguía to drive me to downtown San Francisco. … Continue reading It’s Always About a Dollar (Euro) by Francisco Orozco
Lisbon, Portugal They say that the most beautiful women in the world are from Venezuela, from Latin America; according to Miss Universe. Throughout my life, I came to the realization that Mexicans are not seen as beautiful, since I am a Mexican. Mexicans did not do the thing that beautiful people (white middle class people) do. By the way, what makes a woman beautiful? The … Continue reading On falling in love with right-wing Latinx butterflies by Francisco Orozco
For the Central American Refugee Caravan Montreal, Canada 2:00AM November 2018 As if Tijuana wasn’t alive with all these thousands of bruises. All these sunrises and mariachis have taught us that our houses have shoes on. No American dream just enough beans and rice to get by. Our father will have paint or dirt stains on his jeans at our graduation ceremony. Kisses are more … Continue reading it wouldn’t be Los Angeles without the Hondurans by Francisco Orozco
