Like a breathless friend on a busy corner, Raul Ruiz’s Mustard lifts our gaze, winks, and gestures towards the sky, which is somehow filled with hummingbirds. Surreal, big-hearted, and playful, this series of prose poems documents one jaded (or maybe not yet?) poet's employment at the Libreria De Amplio Margen, "a little bookshop on a street that time was beginning to erase from us," punctuated by the author’s original line drawings. With shrewd and companionable tenderness, Ruiz catches us up in the inextricably strange and hungry experience of being human—loving, dreaming, writing—amidst the buying and selling of books.

Note from the Author:

Since 1987 (since nothing ever really stays buzzing in one place forever), La Libreria De Amplio Margen has been a staple of the Blurry community, providing books and poems and bathroom access to everyone. We hope you can one day join us at one of our many events, like when we tell everyone we meet they have sweet apples for hearts, or when we tell every gun in the heart of dumb men to stop stop stop, for the universe is a single gentle breath in our hands. We have cheap books! We have pencils and we have glasses if you can’t see straight anymore. We can fix your vision. We are open seven days a week! We have newspapers.