Thinking of Central America When the Baby Dies

for Kaya Jacobs

You can’t see me,
but I trudge through a maze of sacuanjoche petals,
the pollen staining my pants and making suns on my jeans.
If I was a type of weather, I would be the nights in Nicaragua
because the crickets sooth the rain,
the hammock in the storm rocks me to sleep.
I kneel and look down at the pavement.
I’m sorry.
If I was a vital organ, I would be a heart
because I am noisy but controlled
by the unbearable taste of it, cracking
on my tongue.
I can no longer wish anymore.
I am Managua at midnight
because I crash, peaceful, closer to the street.
My sand is empty.
The stray dogs dig a home for the night.
If I was a month, I would be August
because I am waiting for this game to end,
the broken bullseye hope.
I tried everything I could
but nothing’s on the mark.


Tricia Lopez was born and raised in Los Angeles, CA. She is the former Editor-in-Chief of MORIA Literary Magazine and a former Grant Writing Intern for Sundress Publications.  She has had poems, stories, and author interviews published in Cultural Weekly, Athena, and Marias At Sampaguitas. Tricia recently published her first chapbook titled In Time I Will. She also recently graduated with a degree Professional Writing from Woodbury University in December. You can find her on Instagram @trvcvv.l and on Twitter @trvcvvl.