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  April 2007
volume 5 number 1
-table of contents-
 
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  Aderemi Adegbite
  E. Amato
  Kristine Anderson
  G.D. Anderson
  Aurora Antonovic
  Carlye Archibeque
  Michael Baker
  Julia Bemiss
  luis cuauhtemoc berriozabal
  Bonnie Bolling
  Graham Burchell
  Dana Campbell
  Lyn Cannaday
  Steve Ceniceros
  Karen E. Cole
  David Concepcion
  Joe Cyr
  Steve De France
  Martin Dickinson
  Margarita Engle
  Michael Estabrook
  Timothy Green
  Kenneth Gurney
  John R. Guthrie
  Tom Hamilton
  Ali Hosseiny
  Thea Iberall
  Victor D. Infante
  Marie Lecrivain
  Rick Lupert
  Francis Masat
  Terry McCarty
  Paul McConnell
  Raghab Nepal
  Dave Nordling
  Rita Odeh
  Maurice Oliver
  Marie Rennard
  Bryan Sanders
  Annette Sugden
  tolbert
  r.k. wallace
 
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Margarita Engle
April 2007
   

 

bio


art by jared barbick

Margarita Engle is a botanist and Cuban-American writer from Los Angeles. Her most recent book is The Poet Slave of Cuba, a Biography of Juan Francisco Manzano (Henry Holt & Co., 2006). Short works appear in a wide variety of journals, such as Atlanta Review, Bilingual Review, California Quarterly, Caribbean Writer, Hawai'i Pacific Review, Nimrod, and Poetry Salzburg Review. Awards include a Cintas Fellowship, a San Diego Book Award, and a 2005 Willow Review Poetry Award.
Margarita lives in central California, where she enjoys hiking and helping her husband with his volunteer work for a wilderness search-and-rescue dog training program.

   

 

Nostalgia

Transplanted to California
from her native sugar-island of Cuba
my mother made us eat wheat germ and carob.

She swore that sodas and candy bars
were poisonous. There were no Cuban treats in our house, no dulce de leche or coconut flan,
no slivers of candied pineapple or merengue, no peanut ice cream, guava paste,or Cuban coffee--
rocket-fuel espresso--
equal parts syrupy liquid, crystals of sugar, and thick, pale cream.

It was only after I'd grown up and moved away that I would come back to Los Angeles for a visit
and find my mother in the kitchen
boiling an unopened can of condensed milk
for one full hour, until the shiny metal cylinder
submerged in roiling bubbles
was filled with caramelized Cuba
instead of ordinary sugar and cream.

We ate the dense, improvised dulce de leche
with a spoon--sweetness of milk, essence of lean island cattle, and emerald green fields
of sugarcane, a tropical image so rich
that we both grew dizzy
with sunlight and palm trees--
craving more...

copyright 2006 Margarita Engle