LEFTOVERS

by Daniel Romo

I’m waiting or dehydrating in this midlife loop, 

stuck between nothing and what to do, thirsty 

for a shot of life’s finest spirits and a sip of 

more than just stagnancy. Meanwhile, the 

taco man that sets up across the street from 

me everynight calls out sick on Instagram 

for fear of being caught up in the immigration 

sweep that’s devoured the Southland. One 

minute you’re slicing al pastor for a hungry 

Caucasian community, the next you’re seized 

by men hiding in masks and Americana. I 

prefer my carne asada with a slight char and 

I’m not even mad as the protesters burn the 

US flag in the Long Beach streets because the 

man who likes his meat rare and the neighbor 

who wants it well-done both bleed out when 

hurt and my city is being stabbed, which 

resurrects me as my blood boils into an 

inferno while I offer a torch to scorch every 

dirty star, to incinerate every misplaced stripe.

Daniel Romo writes, lives, and loves in Long Beach, CA.

PHOTOREALISM:CHUCK CLOSE IN LONG BEACH

by Rick Mullin

Chuck Close, Self-Portrait II, 2011 Oil on canvas, 36 x 30 inches. Saved to Pinterest from Blum & Poe.

He bristles at the notion that his work
might be described in terms of photographs.
This is an affectation or a quirk—
“Seurat renouncing dots!” one critic laughs,
intrigued by the technique and color chart;
the way that paintings done before a crisis
that would leave him paralyzed foretold
what was to come (commanding epic prices);
at how the magic leaves some critics cold.

But the master doesn’t know quite where to start
this afternoon, concerned with where he’ll end.
“I think the portrait’s dead again,” he tells
a writer from The New York Times who’ll spend
a year examining the parallels
between the late self portraits and a term of art.


Rick Mullin's new poetry collection is Stignatz & the User of Vicenza.