[MUSIC PLAYING]
Latinx literature, works in progress, under construction.
Yep, we artists working too much and not enough,
and it's constructions of love from the underside of history.
It's missives from your southern periphery, legends
from sites of mystery and misery, from letters of protest
to songs and love fests, from texts of masses
to subtexts of subjects.
Latinx lit.
Let's rip the visions of the rips.
But it also stitches the wounds of cultures.
It bridges the gaps in the fabrics across Brown documents,
wrapped in a rhapsodic new misty subconsciousness,
because it's folklore and hip hop,
it's fiction with thick plots, it's high
brow and low brow, shades of black, red, white, and brown.
Yup, it's the brief, wondrous life of Oscar Wild.
So it spans diasporas, from the North to the South,
from how the Garcia girls lost their accents, to a manifesto
marking third world expansion.
It's heartlands, and borderlands, and La Frontera.
It's a place to stand, [SPANISH]..
It's complex stories from our backyard.
It's 21 scenic miles, and then Oxnard.
And it's almost living and almost dying in LA.
It's [SPANISH] by conquering your fate.
It's immigrants in our own land.
It's [INAUDIBLE] rising from that taco stand.
And it's a Nuyorican ball room beat plodding down
these mean streets.
So come grasp the vastness of Latinx lit.
It's real, it's magic, slash tragic canvas.
[INAUDIBLE] accents that mix Latin and ex-African
and Indigenous and American pallets.
Mix a mix of cannons and tombs.
It's litten by the Latin American boom.
It lets go letters of audacious hope.
Watch this ill quill shoot down hokey hope.
Yo, we cross the globe, from the global
to the local, digs poetry and prose,
from the high to the low, from Machu Picchu condos,
to [? O's, ?] to tomatoes.
Yo, Pablo's got the [INAUDIBLE] on [SPANISH]..
It goes [SPANISH],, delivering the poet's [SPANISH]..
Swinging soul with dark prophets,
sipping with Whitman in [INAUDIBLE] pockets.
Kicking it with the inner voices saying no.
[SPANISH] anti-democratic assholes.
So climb inside the more realest ride.
Let's take a trip to the shadow side.
Let existential shock rock your life.
Let the questions become soul-sized.
Make the impossible crossable with the Jesus peace.
Didn't cross the border, officer, it crossed me.
Born in the desert, borderlands, the devil's highway,
mixed with bloody hands, nails in the palm.
No matter if the songs are theist or atheist,
the sacred blends where hatred rends.
Dawn whatever garment makes you human and more again,
again and again.
Animal again, transcended trended.
Multiply your consciousness, of authors and authoresses,
Brown and Black and White thought dresses,
making kin to all mestizos and remixed kin.
Melting pot?
Nah, it burns off different ends.
So let's compose mosaic fragments
of prose, like Sandra's rose next to an Onessimo's rose.
Marquez got the [INAUDIBLE] slim short story.
Very cold surface, but pack the heat beneath.
Let them see for themselves a whole evacuee.
Abhorrents of the void that stinks like rotten meat.
It's a death constant, a deferred dream, a haunted
fleet.
And it can get dark when the darkness is lit, so elucidate
the devil in the details within, because without this lantern
casting spells, you could not sense the depths of the hell
that dwell below the [INAUDIBLE] covers.
So Latinx lit addresses history, sides with the under classes
and the tragic ass.
So it blasts on the cast, and recasts them
into plagues and medicines.
The realest pen concocting dope poison injections, administered
to your family, your friends, proletarians, bougie, and 1%
heads.
Inject heads of state with headaches [SPANISH],,
like [SPANISH].
Decolonizing mindframe [INAUDIBLE],, because heads
ain't ready.
Like El Boogie said, refugees come heavy,
because we are about to change the focus
from the richest to the locust, from the richest to brokest.
It's ninth inning, with the World Series lit aura.
So it's time to bring in the closer.
It's the heat seeking [SPANISH] running rings
around the bull like a matador.