Crackers by Willie Perdomo

Crackers walked through Central Park looking for ballads that she could staple to her memory.This is what she tells the Doctor-on-duty when he asked, And what did Crackers do today? He flipped her case folder open and found Crackers sitting on a bench, freezing verses to death.His medical degrees and his association certificates crawled down from the wall and asked about her last meal.Crackers smirked and made a sound as if she was sucking a pork chop strand from the gap in her smile and said, "I had a heart boiled with palm trees and seasoned with vintage overcoats plus a side of love that never showed up at the Pan Am ticket counter."It says here that you've been arrested, Doctor said.Would you like to explain?Crackers craned her neck toward the ceiling and let it drop toward the floor like it was just chopped off.With wide-eye, mad glee, Crackers said, "Bueno, the first time I was accused of making a Senator run to Alabama to get his twelve-gauge. My fingers tremble when I count the beads on my rosary but I do not break.I am a bush of siempre vivas waiting for the Virgin to come for her coffee.I created my own sky and I defend the dirt that I ate as a young girl.I would have liked to become a nun for the children but a gun convinced me of its higher power. God is on my side and again his name is Juan Luis."Then she told him about the night she went through the system for jumping into Bethesda Fountain when she thought that someone had set her curls on fire.When the police asked her for identification she laughed like a crazy woman and said, "Cantamos ahora, que la vida se va.Soy Julia, pendejo, mata nota, barbaro trucutu, soy Julia ..."

Selected from Matador Magazine, published in Madrid

Edited by Mireia Sentis

 

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