Chicano Poet

Monday, October 31, 2011

Poetic Episode In Juarez

The violent little poet had tried to cut her throat
when he remembered he was a poet.

The lyrics poured out of him like candy
from a busted piñata.

Each poem in his lovely book could easily win over
his harshest critics he thought.

And Rigoberto Gonzalez would probably review it
for the El Paso Times.

He put down the knife thinking
I might leave Juarez this merry minute.

He was saying this out loud in nervous Spanish
as a crowd of open-palmed policemen gathered.

The girl rubbed her reddened throat
realizing she would be just fine.

As our poet hurried across the bridge into El Paso,
the Rio Bravo was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Journey To The Center Of The Earth

He put his lily-white hands on her bare shoulders
and kissed her neck and then her nipples.

His tongue dove into her navel,
journey to the center of the earth,

the downward spiral,
crystal stalactites glowing,

soothing water rushing up
into the chambers,

heat filling the pipes,
the underground river a boon

to those without the sun and moon.
Love this deep down into the earth

must be excused and not left to luck.
Up on the surface we can not love like this.

We should make this our home,
he whispered in her ear, her naked body glistening,

the core of the earth so hot
and beautiful.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Elvis In Outer Space

Reading Elvis Presley’s autobiography,
I’m surprised to learn

he only made one science fiction movie.
I doublecheck the Internet

(like the Internet needs checking!)
just to be on the safe side.

And sure enough, cyberspace confirms it.
Still, it’s nice to know

the King saved earth
at least once in his hip-swiveling lifetime.

Friday, October 21, 2011

Barrio Tale

La brown Sleeping Beauty
was head over heels in love with Prince Harming.

She forgave him each trespass,
telling family of her clumsiness,

how she’d walked into a door,
hiding the bruises on her back

until one night Prince Harming went too far
and put la Sleeping Beauty into a very deep sleep.

No kiss was going to wake her up
from the barrio fairy tale.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

The Hunter Of Zombies

Each live zombie counts as five points she says,
making sure everyone understands

she’s way ahead.
So what else is new

complains her primo hermano Cheto.
Her machete glistens red

against the predicted sunset.
The barrio’s hind legs

give off their dues and then some.
Brown families

hurry along the river bottom.
Dead abuelas sweep the banks

with homemade brooms.
Go back to your tombs she yells.

The barrio’s black eye
winks with sarcasm from the broken dam.

Our heroine waits in the shadows
for nightfall to rise with the fog.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Swimsuit For Lyrics

for c. c.

In your new swimsuit
of lyrics,

the lyrics I can’t
quite fathom.

Pelvis of
a female Elvis,

your salacious thighs
give birth to a seven pound God.

I’m the school boy
dumped dead

for this occasion.

Your sex
dried by the wind,

and the snow
hot as hell.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Summer Landscape

After he shot up,
a taste like that of a black magic woman

filled the back of his throat.
At that moment---

he was not an addict anymore,
shunned by family and friends,

who had no money to give him,
who guarded their personal possessions

when he was around.
At that moment---

he was sailing silver hills,
flying as if he was the gutsy barrio sky,

the cool breeze
danced inside the summer leaves

of the tantalizing trees in his head
uprooted just now

tossed into the dirty
and dusty San Antonio River,

whose innards
harbored no ill will towards friend or foe.

That sweet taste
fading now.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Sweet Home Alabama

I was wearing my illegal alien outfit in the barrio
which would have been ok almost anywhere else

except I was in Alabama
where they don’t like anything brown

they must shit white turds
mark my words

so I took the next Greyhound bus
out of the state

trying to get away from the hate
my heart pounding

every time I saw gringos out the windows
I crouched down low between the seats

between a rock and hard place---
the story of my raza.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011


The poet being headstrong
dove into the underword,

hideous creatures left and right
did threaten.

Each obstacle to be sure
must be carved out.

The giant muse
requires a giant pupil.

So many things
can go wrong with wrong.

The larvae of boulders
do not fly.

Desire’s ruby tail,
white flapping shoulders.

Lips brought here
by asteroid.

Thursday, October 06, 2011