Mornings are a rough handgrab
of sulfur and the unboxing of cold.
Every self we have ever been
is still inside us. I was told this
The sidewalks are scarred, the air
When you’ve lost the buildings you hold
onto the trains, the TDKs, the DREAMs.
Last night the city danced
with fire in her spine. Afterwards,
We were invited inside. We didn’t leave
until the moon did.
Alan Jauregui Chazaro is a high school teacher at the Oakland School for the Arts. Currently, he is pursuing an MFA in Writing as a Lawrence Ferlinghetti Fellow at the University of San Francisco, and is a June Jordan Poetry for the People alum at UC Berkeley. Most recently, he received an AWP Intro Journals Award, which was selected by 2017 Pulitzer Prize winner, Tyehimba Jess. His poems have appeared in various journals including Huizache, The Cortland Review, Borderlands, Juked, Hotel Amerika, and Public Pool. You can usually find him wearing Bay Area sports apparel and listening to West Coast throwbacks. You can find him at http://agchazaro.wixsite.com/poetry