The Acentos Review May 2012
 
Bio Joseph Rios was born and raised in the Central San Joaquin Valley. He studied English at UC Berkeley. He transferred from Fresno City College where he was a practicing editor and journalist for numerous publications. His poetry has been published in BorderSenses and the Ram's Tale. His first full-length manuscript, Impersonations, is currently seeking a publisher.
2 POEMS Suicidal After Mario Savio 
We stood like mimes near a conveyor
turning out waterlogged boxes
of green green Thompsons
and purple Zinfandels(*) like bruises
the old man hopping up and down reachingreaching arribaarriba
too short to grab empties from the top row

He must have left his voice at home
the old man I mean
or maybe just his tongue
rotting on a stone near Nogales
where he left his younger face
wrapped in foil with bits of nopal
miles beyond the mound of nails the forklifts beepbeepbeeping 
and the oily sprockets and chains

He just kept pointing to the hole
where his mouth used to be
reaching to scratch what was left
of the sun disappearing under a quilt
made of rowsrowsorrowsrows and the downturned heads
fingers blossoming behind

Mire alli esta donde los escapó
 Mis sueños me dijó
like beads of blood red juice
they each fell under hopeful feet
squashed along packing lines one two three teeth against steel nose to the flywheel
headfirst into the machine Josefo Chats with Chewy 
 “Still, even when they laughed, they laughed in Spanish.” Larry Levis, Winter Stars 
Madtown, CA. Summer. Semi-truck. Cigarettes. Talk radio. Jerking Transmission. Dancing Virgen de Guadalupe On arm, rearview mirror. C: So you go to school n shit, huh? J: Yeah. C: Whatchu wanna do with that? J: I wanna be a writer. C: No mames. And write about what? J: Whatever. C: You make good money doin that? J: Nah. Not really. C: So why the hell do you do it? J: Fuck if I know. C: You probably do it for the pussy. Dont lie fucker. J: Man, just drive the fuckin truck. C: No mames. I knew it. J: Fuckouttahere. C: You gonna write about me? J: Fuck you. C: Ay puto. Id make a good character. You should write about me. J: I just did.