Love, Your Artsy Girl

My first full-length poetry collection is published & ready to ship! You can purchase your copy here:  http://cristinaquerrer.com/books !

Read my poem: " LINE THEM UP " @Copyright 2017 belongs to the respective author of each work. Locofo Chaps is an imprint of Moria Books.  More information can be found at www.moriapoetry.com. Cover image: “Puñeta” (2015), embroidered on cotton by Jenny Ortuoste Locofo Chaps is dedicated to publishing politically-oriented poetry. Chicago, USA, 2017  CONTENTS Michelle Bautista: “FLOW”        Mg Roberts: “notes from the gyre”        Kimberly Alidio: “I was born for a stricter regime” Jose Padua: “Headhunters”         Kimberly Alidio: “[untitled]”        Luisa A. Igloria: “PEOPLE LIKE US”        Glynda Velasco: “The F Word”        Barbara Jane Reyes: “Prayers of Petition”       Jose Padua: “Seven ...

Eileen Tabios, my long time poet/writer friend, wrote about my art I had given to her a while back in her blog:   Eileen Lives with Art

Could never use those coupons up before they expire. Forget where I put them. How am I able to keep track of all the things I could have saved? Must have emptied more than  a million trash cans  in my lifetime. Hauling off heaps of my heart in rusty shipping containers overseas, giving it away in suburbs. In megapixels of my youth--no one has given me proof of its gold, its creditworthiness. Old Sunday circulars' clippings crammed in crusty corners of my purse. Maybe there's a purpose for buying overpriced souvenirs. To come full-circle at your frugality. Free yet fraught with  old film reels.

This flash fiction by Cristina Querrer was originally published in The Milo Review. ****************** Mount Pinatubo jutted its colossal body above the jungle, vacantly looking down and snorting at the mortals in hedonistic Angeles City, Philippines. Passengers in a jeepney witnessed a bar girl running topless down the street, chasing after some overweight foreigner. “Hoy, pogi, halika dito!” she shouted. The Australian looked back at her smiling as he trotted along flattered by her pursuit. Still, even in the ‘80s, strings of them lined up and down prostitute alley, these exotic gems of South China Sea, as the men liked to call them. Some leaned in the door frames of their establishments in their stacked heels and hot pants, some smoking a cigarette, some not. A Filipina teenager—a bar girl—sat on a GI‘s lap at a table outside one of the cabarets. Silhouettes of naked women danced in front of windows; discos’ bright neon lights flashed above street vendors sel...

My chapbook, " The Art of Exporting ", published by  dancing girl press in 2011 has finally gotten a chance to be beautifully reviewed by Eileen R. Tabios, who curates and edits "The Halo-Halo Review" . What I also love is that she mentioned  my daughter's photography that is featured on the front cover and inside my poetry collection.  Click on the link below: http://halohaloreview.blogspot.com/2016/08/the-art-of-exporting-by-cristina-querrer.html

It's no wonder I am hollowed out. Apple's bitten clean through its core. Even seeds' gone, swallowed whole, but they are sprouting in cavernous abdomens to fruitless, ulcerous crab trees. This is what the void plants: the so much need & yearning for so much in poor soil. For something more majestic than this even when I close my eyes & dream it all in color, repeating, remembering. All the thankless routines of praising false harvests has me wishing for blank, soundless waves, hill-less horizons. That's what it means to be wise I've been told: forgive vulgar volcanoes for acting out their discontent.