genesisSpring2016.pdf


6     genesis spring 2016

Recuerdos means memories in Spanish, and in this context refers to 
the items placed on the altar of  loved ones who have passed for Dia 
de Los Muertos, the Day of  the Dead.

Well, not really,
store bought from the overpriced 
supermarket on 86th street.  I never knew 
they were called Concords.
I called them Wela’s grapes,
but they still burst with the same sour 

splits the velvety purple peel.
I hated all other grapes that didn’t 
taste like Wela’s tart little spheres.

A dinted tin of  Royal Dansk
butter cookies,
no galletas inside of  course.

with buttons, needles, and thimbles-
both rubber and metal 
and spools of  every colored-thread.

for every nativity play
and Dia de Guadalupe.

Recuerdos
Carolina Castoreno



genesis spring 2016     7     

A cup of  cream and sugar with a splash

Another café black and bitter
both spiced with sprigs of  cinnamon.
I used to take it sweet like hers
the leche coating my chocolate concha

Now I drink it dark and strong like his.
Long ago swallowing my hope
and tolerance for humanity.
Roasted cynicism, stoic brew.

A red bandana with black and white paisleys,
twisted tear drops
infusing the room with the aroma of  baby oil
and Vicks vapor rub, the miracle drug,
partnered with manzanilla tea and 
eggs for ojo, a couple sana sana’s and
you could cure cancer.  Welo kept it
tucked in the pocket of  his khakis or

cholo, 
even at 76, even when the diabetes took
his legs, siempre cabrón!



8     genesis spring 2016

All the recuerdos de mis abuelos nestled on the lap of  
a Mexican blanket.
Not a big San Marcos Colcha, a little woolen
rainbow-colored serape we used to drape 
over Welo’s chair, the kind gringos call “throws.”
A fat cobalt blue candle that smells like 
the beach replacing veladoras de los santos.
Sorry Wela, the Virgencita doesn’t 
visit my house much these days.
I burn the sage and wonder, why
can’t all grapes taste like Wela’s?

Carolina Castoreno - Recuerdos