1. (noun.) The CGI favelas
superimposed upon the intricate-lit sheen
of Zoe Saldana’s left tricep
as she nuzzles a handgun between
praying hands, barrel kissing her brow
as the tasteful taupe words haloed
over her head decree Vengeance
2. (verb). The act of engaging in a rare form
of pica, during which the afflicted scarfs
national flags; she then regurgitates
into the stars and the stripes
which will flutter aloft in Hi-Def,
lambent with traces of saliva.
3.a. (mistake). Yours, North America,
for flagrantly neglecting that your schools
ensure all pupils learn the finer points
of B & E & Neo-Colonial-favela-parkour.
Your daughters, who can’t hack
the flexor tendons of unwelcome strangers
in point-oh-eight seconds;
your nine-year-olds whose tibias
still shatter at the mere sight
of repeated ten-foot falls.
6. (champagne). Specifically,
the Champagne of Sodas, surreptitiously
containing your first taste
of Coors Light, siphoned into your glass
by that cousin, sniggering over the film
at the younger kids, because a girl your age
can’t take it straight, you know.
13.b. (mistake). Your father’s, who took on
the video store run for the family reunion,
who too jauntily had all the kids
stack up like VHS tapes in the basement
to evangelize hope for their salvaged fate:
today, mis chinos,
you will learn about your country
from this lustrous DVD.
24. (synonym). For “exotic” or “hot-tempered”
because Mexico, the usual booty call,
is getting quite bad press of late,
what with the actual Mexicans
having their real names splashed
grossly across the newsways.
8. (adjective.) The L.A. Times
defines it aptly: a b-movie blast
of bloody blam blam, and you’re checking
your fingers and toes for little traces
of her blood,
listening close to your heartbeat:
Define. Define. Define.
11. (constellation). In the quadrant Sagittarius;
all Third-World-Country movie sets
are mocked-up on a blueprint
of the pattern in this cluster, in which
the stars spell out a woman’s sharpened breasts
and sleek, protruding ribs,
rubbed with a coffee marinade,
garnished with rare, edible orchids.
“B-movie blast of bloody blam blam” is a line from Betsey Sharkey’s review of Colombiana in The Los Angeles Times, written in 2011.
Rebecca Salazar is a creative writing MA student at UNB, managing editor of Qwerty, and editorial assistant at The Fiddlehead. Originally from Sudbury, Ontario, she was a co-founding editor of Sulphur: Laurentian University’s Literary Journal. She was recently awarded first place in The Malahat Review’s Open Season poetry contest, and an honorable mention in CV2’s 2014 Young Buck Poetry Contest. Her writing has appeared in Existere and Poetry is Dead.
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