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 This week’s Poetry Corner features three poets whose work appears in the book, “The Wind Shifts.” David Dominguez’s full-length collection of poems, “Work Done Right,” was published by the University of Arizona Press, 2003. He teaches composition and poetry writing at Reedley College. His poem, Roof appears in “The Wind Shifts,” an anthology of new Latino poetry published by University of Arizona Press. Adela Najarro holds a doctorate degree in literature and creative writing from Western Michigan University, as well as a master of fine arts degree from Vermont College. She currently teaches at Cabrillo College as part of the Puente Project, a program designed to support Latinidad in all its aspects, while preparing community college students to transfer to four-year colleges and universities. She lives in Santa Cruz. John Olivares Espinoza’s poetry has been published in various journals, anthologies, and chapbooks. Bilingual Press will publish his first full-length collection of poems, “The Date Fruit Elegies,” this summer. A native of Southern California, Olivares received his master of fine arts degree from Arizona State University and currently teaches writing and literature at The National Hispanic University in San Jose.
Roofby David Dominguez
 David Dominguez
At lunch, I go watch the Mexicanos
who are putting the ceiling on my house.
They don’t like me the moment
I park at the curb.
Extension cords crisscross the slab.
I nod at the fellow with the saw.
He’s watching my feet,
nervous I’ll trip and pull
the diamond-cut teeth
through skin, veins, and bones.
They have names for me: pocho, gringo.
The one with the nail gun nods
but before I look away
he punches three-pennies into a board:
I can take a hint.
Days ago, I saw a nest in the beams.
Now it lies on the floor,
a dove’s refuge smashed under a boot.
Between Two Languagesby Adela Najarro
 Adela Najarro
Misericordia translates to mercy,
as in God have mercy on our souls.
Ten piedad, pity us the poor and suffering,
the lost and broken. Have mercy. Ten piedad.
Misericordia, a compassionate
forgiveness, carries within
miseria, misery, the stifled cry
on a midnight bus to nowhere,
and yes, the hunger, a starless night’s
piercing howl, the shadows within shadows
under a freeway overpass, the rage
that God might be laughing, or even
worse, silent, gone, a passing hallucination.
Our nerve-wracked bodies tremble.
Our eyes have trouble peering into night.
Let us hope for more than can possibly be.
Señor, ten misericordia de nosotros.
And if we are made in the image of God,
then we can begin heading toward
the ultimate zero, the void
that is not empty, forgive ourselves,
and remember the three
seconds when we caught a glimpse
of someone else’s stifling cry.
Compassion, then miseria, our own
misery intensified by the discordant
ringing of some other life. Our ultimate
separation. Our bodies intolerably
unable to halt the cacophonous
clamor of unanswered prayers.
But nevertheless we must try
for no reason at all. Once more,
Señor, ten misericordia de nosotros,
forgive us for what we cannot do.
Learning Economics at Gemcoby John Olivares Espinoza
 John Olivares Espinoza
My mother pushes a grocery cart,
I tug at her blue, pleated skirt.
She puts her change into my hands,
For the old soul slumped against the wall,
His gray mouth covered by a beard of wind and dirt.
I place the coins into his cupped hands
And he stacks two neat columns of cents
Next to his seat on the curb.
He nods his chin, half-solemnly.
I turn back to mother,
Suddenly a cop – he came out of nowhere –
Tells me Take the money back.
I brush the coins
Back into my palms like table crumbs.
As the old man,
Silent as those pennies,
Gets cuffed and hauled off to jail.
I ask Mom why? –
We only tried to help.
The cop says bums make thirty bucks a week
Begging for change
And are not too unhappy
When arrested
Since they get food, shelter,
And a hot shower for at least a week.
My mother pushes the grocery cart without a word,
Knowing that as newlyweds she begged outside markets for change
While Dad stole bread and sliced honey-ham inside.
Between Two Languages by Adela Najarro, Roof by David Dominguez and Learning Economics at Gemco are all from “The Wind Shifts: New Latino Poetry,” edited by Francisco Aragón. (c) 2007 The Arizona Board of Regents. Reprinted by permission of the University of Arizona Press.
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