Map Poem by Isabella S.

I hated Tucson.
It never curled right.
I might as well just cut I 10 to I 19
I don’t care if Tombstone, Bisbee or Douglas
Ever grew back, and I don’t know why
My family made such a bitch about the suggested.
The Gulf of California was always
well behaved. It teased right and
didn’tfriz. It would be a shame to cut off those flirtarious Gulfs
I just have to cut them too.

Sierra San Pedro Martir
Was determined when I
Walked into the tattoo shop.
I kept the Sonora Valley
As blank as possible,
Hoping the Sonoytas
And Punta Prietas wouldn’t
Turn on me and show my nerves
As I confronted the tattoo artist.
He eyed me from Sonora to Tamaulipas
And asked me to take a seat on the bench.
I lay down and lifted my skirt,
Zacatecas and Monterrey were
Trying not to twitch
As we warmed up the machine, needle buzzing.
At the first touch of the needle
On Juan Aldoma the Gulf of Mexico
Clenched and curled,
Trying to keep the rest of Mexico still

~Isabella S.