Luis Galindo‘s “The Puddle of Romeo’s Tears” is our favorite kind of heartbreak poem: bitter yet playful, melancholy yet comic,  graceful yet naughty. And it’s but one of the many savory slices of lit you can read in our Spring 2014 Issue, on sale for just $3.

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WHY DIDN’T YOU RETURN MY HOWLS
Last night
Under the moon’s silver chains
And pink undergarments?
Were you busy? Were you washing
Your hair in the tears
Of half-assed Romeos
In the unrequited evening?

I was there
Under your balcony
Wearing a green snake-skin
suit that I bought
from the Our Mother of Holy Agony
Thrift store on the corner of
Mistake and Trust.
While standing there
And howling, I could see
The sign of the manufacturer
Of the fire escape under your window.
Stamped into the cold dark steel:
Dirtyfuckinglie, Inc.

I stood there for hours with
A love poem I had written
The night before on a napkin
From our favorite Chinese restaurant.

I had planned on reciting it
To you, at midnight
But it was too late.
You were
Not There
You were

Elsewhere.

I crumpled it
And threw it
Into a puddle
On the street
That other Romeos had no doubt
Left behind.
A tiny ocean of broken-hearted
Crybaby evidence.

I looked into the puddle
With the light from a match.

I saw tadpoles with golden halos
Swimming erratically
Bumping into one another like a
Miniature crash-up derby.

The match burned
My finger and
I let it drop.

The night had
Stolen my identity
And used it
To buy black
Market weapons
In the murky
Shadows up
Your
Private
Alley.

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LUIS  GALINDO was born near Corpus Christi, Texas. He’s an acting ensemble member of the Independent Shakespeare Company in Los Angeles. His poetry and short story collection Electric Rats in a Neon Gutter was recently released by El Jamberoo Press. He has lived in NYC, Chicago, and LA. He received his MFA from the University of Delaware Professional Theatre Training Program. He lives in Houston, Texas.