C.V. 

J.Gregory Cisneros

I was born too early  and half dead

     But survived the angry red scar of my birth.

An early outcast,

I learned the comfort and solitude of libraries

     And lived alongside the lives 

     revealed in books.

In the beehive busy streets of my youth

     I watched violent dances of dissatisfactions;

The shuffle of drought hunger,

The waltz of machine gun rule. 

I inhaled enough teargas and fear 

    That by fifteen I feared nothing, 

     And everything, 

     And trusted few.

I have almost drowned twice,

     But still love the ocean.

I have been lost in the labyrinths of mountains

     But still crave their altitudes.

The cold blue Andes 

     Structure my heart.

The yellow heat of Central Texas

     Sweats in my blood.