My mother is not easy to surprise,
as a woman of habit
she is not fond of
inconsistencies.
But as a child of rebellion
I find myself questing
after the gift, or the
moment, or the news,
that would make my mother
smile brighter than the day before.
So when I was able to afford
a bus ride back home on
Mothers Day of 2015,
I was elated.
See, if you were to ask mami
what she would want on any
holiday or birthday her response
would be as follows:
A hallmark card, a dozen roses,
and to spend time with her children.
And this year I was going to give
her all three, the ultimate gifter,
that would rightfully secure my
place as favorite child.
I started my grand home tour at
my best friends house, giving
me enough time to gather
up the supplies.
The hours pass by and we’re
now on Crooked Hill Rd.
heading towards Yarnell St.
when my phone rings.
Knots in my throat, I try not to spill
over, my voice cracks.
You see, my family is riddled
with romances of death and
this year we were dancing with
the devil.
He took a liking to her, had
seen her strength, and
decided to court her
that very day.
As grey walls and sterile smells engulf my
senses, the embrace of despair washes over me.
My fingernails begin to bleed
from the gnawing of my anxiety,
I no longer remember what
I did with my day.
All I could think is how quickly
they cleared the broken glass at
the intersection of Main St.
and Crooked Hill Rd.
Nancy Azcona is a 25 year old Salvadorian/Dominican New Yorker living out in Los Angeles since 2017. Queer and first gen American, the intersections are truly endless. She has been working in the entertainment industry since 2016 and is currently a Production Coordinator at the digital company SMOSH. Her articles have been featured on Funknvibe’s previous blog platform and her spoken word has been performed at their live events. In her spare time she enjoys taking care of too many plants, working on her imperfect ceramic pieces, watching any and all reality TV shows, and using her voice to tear down systematic oppression.