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I'm not entirely sure how the Vatos poem came into being. I was working on this long thing called The Tijuana Book of the Dead, which is a symbolic journey of the Mexican soul from birth to death and beyond. It is largely concerned with the fate of the family, or the mothers and fathers. And I had also been working on my epic novel about Teresita Urrea, the Saint of Cabora. I was absorbing a lot of female history and energy. Historically, I knew, women had been ignored and erased. But I suddenly realized that, outside of the historical record, the men were also ignored and erased. The modern Xicano/Mexicano/Latino man was invisible. And I thought: these poor men, nobody cares, nobody listens to them, nobody remembers them. My dad! My uncles! My brothers! And I was thinking about Mexican churches, how you hear old women praying, that kind of rhythmic litany. And it all spilled out. Every line the exact same number of beats, as if 100 grandmas were praying to Guadalupe. Lu! is Urrea
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