Cover Photo: photo by Fabio Venni/flickr
photo by Fabio Venni/flickr

What I Saw When My Father Wrestled Cousin Pedro

The object of my desire is rarely men like my father, uncle, or the other men in my neighborhood. Cousin Pedro is an exception.

Ese that ese ese,

Watching him recede from view, I worry whether I, too, swish my hips like this man; whether I, too, am just a description with no name.

Cousin Pedro flops onto the grass. His chest lunges upward then downward. I want to jump on him like I jump on my father when he returns home from work. Something, something invisible and visible, holds me back.

Marcos Santiago Gonsalez is a writer and critic. His work has appeared in Electric Literature, Catapult, and The New Inquiry, among other publications. He is currently working on an essay collection and writing a dissertation for a PhD in English Language and Literature.