Waking up every morning to fry the plantains,
cook the beans, mix the masa to make tortillas,
pull out the crema. Put on Univision on the TV,
to see what is going on now in El Salvador.
Another brother is gone—Abuela crying on the phone,
Momi and Papi fighting again. Come Fridays,
send money to El Salvador to Abuela and family.
Papi talking about the hardship in the USA.
Another call, my other brother deported, everyone
in my family yelling and fighting in Spanish.
Come Sundays the only time my whole family
is peaceful with one another, singing at Spanish mass.
My mom still fighting to get her permanent visa.
I don’t want to be alone in the USA with no family
Or friends. Everyone is getting deported. Waiting
for Abuela to come and visit the USA to bring
Conserba, a Salvadoran candy of coconuts shredded,
then dried and dipped in sugar, memories of being
on the beach eating them. Making choco-bananas
in the summer—popsicle sticks in the banana,
dipped in melted chocolate, then frozen, the sweet
cold crunchiness I miss eating at the soccer fields
on late Sunday afternoons.