The buskers ran late like the husbands buying cheap chocolate boxes across the street. One busker, guitarist, soundchecks next to me while I wait for my ex. He’s wearing crunched Ray-Bans and an uneven bowl cut. This guy. Homeboy gets halfway through “If You Love Me Like You Say” before nudging me. “Y’know, man, this is how the ladies get you. It’s always fragile ones that'll say you have nothing to worry about.” I brush him away with a chuckle. Men, I realized, get by on searching for someone else to blame. Anyways, she never shows; the silence becomes impersonal.
Gavin Garza is a poet, tutor, and student transferring from Fresno City College. He's reclaiming his Chicanismo after growing up in IBLP, a Christian cult. Instagram and X: @anoldsoulsong