Sweet Manong, Sweet Fish Jason Magabo Perez
Here, inside of this sentence stretching toward the Pacific, set deep, still on Kumeyaay land, here, in the thick historical present, out front of a foreclosed single family home, past a
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dried-dead yellow lawn, past plastic-covered
furniture of the evicted, out front of a one-
bedroom apartment, each wall lined with
bunkbeds for migrants since long ago, here,
out front of another out-of-business Filipino
restaurant, here, along a sidewalk of abandoned
shoestrings, receipts, and grocery lists, here,
on the corner of Black Mountain and Mira Mesa,
