Creative Writing

Poem: City poet

I wish there was less ignorant drivers in East L.A., I want a city with more MMA gyms around East L.A. This city kept all my memories in East L.A. I remember seeing all the race cars in East L.A. I heard the dodge with 15 pounds of boost soar through Gage street in East…
<a href="https://highschool.latimes.com/author/christhehoonigan/" target="_self">Christopher Huerta</a>

Christopher Huerta

November 17, 2017

I wish there was less ignorant drivers in East L.A.,

I want a city with more MMA gyms around East L.A.

This city kept all my memories in East L.A.

I remember seeing all the race cars in East L.A.

I heard the dodge with 15 pounds of boost soar through Gage street in East L.A.

I smelt the juicy corn from the elotero in East L.A.

I saw “la raza” in East L.A.

I appreciate this city, even though it’s uncomfortably ghetto. I’ll live and die in East L.A.

Poem: To My Target Panic

Poem: To My Target Panic

I remember the first time I met you, the first Sunday of September. Before we met, archery was predictable; my routine was reliable. The weight of my quiver, the resistance of my string, the curve of my limbs, and Sunday morning practice, it was always the same. But...