Chicano Poet

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Ponte Trucha

The illegal aliens
made a run for it,

but the t-rex
knew what she was doing.

La chamaca
snapped a picture with her phone.

Sangre was going everywhere.
It was like a fiesta.

Cohetes popping
like popcorn,

though in this case,
it was cojones.

Life was hard
in pre-hysterical Arizona.

Its wild life has all but vanished now,
except for its giant dumb-blonde lizard.

Friday, April 27, 2012

The Statue Of Triste On Mars

The  night she disappeared
she was wearing Hello Kitty pajamas.

Her abductor and tormentor
had Martin skin.

The moons had gone haywire
and up into  a leaky faucet.

Police lieutenants
arrived in vicious rockets.

Her mother wept.
Her tears were smuggled gently

out of the house.
The house whose legs

filled up with lowly  rain.
The crime remaining

snagged and worn in hell.
The statue melted down into a kiss.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Pitter Patter

Her broken heart
made her groggy.

Her vagina
had been in a skirmish with a boy.

Digging out kisses
from his collar.

His hands
like buses in the nasty barrio.

The diesel fumes
made a ring around her finger.

She thought
that'd be enough.

The veins in her dress
dark blue.

Her mind for sale now
at the very same pulga

where her ex drinks a beer
straight out of the ground.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Leapt Away

The lover I was once
leaps away

your arms
in the plastic bags of the stars

an unheard of
slab of ice

the dusty street
played like a flute

soft as the moon
after spit

I open to the darkness
of fire

the knot I am
will not go through the buttonhole

this cameo
forced upon me

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Half Full

This morning she poured herself into her pants
as she always did.

Her red lipstick
smeared on birds before ten.

The glue of her thighs
set for love.

Each scrape of her smile
left a wonderful flake.

Her naked shoulders
in their chosen land.

If it wasn't for the birds,
who'd know?

Monday, April 23, 2012

Earth Versus The Venusian Reyes Cardenas

The earth maneuvers
over me.

I' m as white
as a ghost.

My scarlet eyes
back up to a brick wall.

The words were there
until they turned to steam.

Saturday, April 21, 2012

My brother Val drawing with two hands.

Arizona Autopsy

The autopsy on La Llorona's children
proved that they had indeed drowned accidentally

so now it's become rocket science
every detail of one's death

has to be proved
to the satisfaction

of the district attorney
who's out to convict

Mexicans for anything
and becomes morose

when he can't get a conviction
and La Llorona walks free

proclaiming her innocence along the arroyo
the governor fumes

and the D. A. pouts
kicks his desk like a spoiled child---

just don't understand.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

The Mexican Elephant

The Mexican elephant
stays close to pyramids,

rubs its face
against volcanos,

plays hide and seek
with lava.

He does not wonder
what happened to the Mayans.

He does not blame La Malinche
for not being an elephant.

And when he sees
La Llorona's tears,

his big gray ears
ignore her plight.

The Mexican elephant can not think,
it only remembers.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

The Prayer

Father may I hate you
you flyingggg through the desert

like Luke looking for Obi Wan
there in your youth

dark brown sharecropper
on a distant planet

you swept mother off her feet
no doubt

the cornfields were fruit and lips
the sun dropped its warm skin

upon you
paradise so still you missed it

and fled into the desert
Father may I hate you

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Abuelo's Funky Polka

Abuelo's dancing as if he wasn't dead
the polka too

is ignorant of time
the old cantinera savory

to abuelo's touch
what can I say

I'm now the same age abuelo was
when he got run over

and killed by a drunk driver
who I hope burns in hell

his huevos fed to the devil
vengeance saith the Lord

is mine
the son of God better be on my side

dance that funky polka abuelo
dance that funky polka please

Friday, April 13, 2012


Chavela hung in there
her womb huffing and puffing

trying her best
to spit out

that little bundle of joy
which of course

she didn't know
would turn out so bad

killed the two Rodriguez boys
they were only thirteen and fifteen

Chavela hung in there
the doctor grabbed the baby's head

we're all innocent
until proven guilty

that's the beauty
of it all

Thursday, April 12, 2012

His First Canary

She was my first canary
said the dark brown man

who pushed the lawnmower
across the face of

well, let's just say Mars.
The girl had stubble

on her legs,
her short shorts were lamps.

Her wild breasts
corralled in their cups.

The lawnmower
made a loud telephone sound.

Sugar was flying around
at the speed of light

in my coffee mug.
A yellow girl

is not routine except
in half-cracked windows

said the lawnmower man
in a sentence

before he left the neighborhood
in this scene.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Familia Juarez

The birds were singing
on half a bicycle.

Two men dead in the barrio
of inchworms chanted the dirty children.

Lola had gone to the grocery store
without her real name which was Dolores.

A pvc pipe bounced
on the nearby freeway each bounce a joke.

A punk smelled of onions
while father beat him mother fried more onions.

The hot sun
is really a sweet hole

whose guilty sunbeams
are lapped up by stray dogs.

The teenage girl with no chin
laughs swiftly

before a family member
shuts her up.

Monday, April 09, 2012

Dead Ant

Hormiga always liked big girls (he married one)
us cabrones would make fun of him

he didn’t care
nothing really bothered him

we made fun of him
because he was smarter than us

got Bs while we got Fs
stayed out of trouble

while we were meant for it
he was a real mellow guy

raised a family
raised his grandkids

so it’s hard to believe
that just this morning

Hormiga shot his wife
and put the gun to his own head

for the life of me
I can’t remember how he got that nickname

Thursday, April 05, 2012

Everybody Must Get Stoned

The Cantinfla brothers stoned their enemies
ambushed them

in the dump
adjacent to Juan Seguin Elementary

walked to the grandmother's house
fought time-honored snipers along the way

the mine-fields
of fifth grade girls

the cemetery which rose up
and up

by Campbell Street
long before the Campbell Street gang could even crawl

and the Gonzales sisters on Tony Lee
they walked in beauty to their primo Speedy's house

and the brothers finally arriving at the security
and sanctity of Fourth Street

swooning on the shallow gravel of the street
which, they complained, was always swooning back.

Wednesday, April 04, 2012

Moon Landings

Watching the moon landings
at Meme's house

Meme's mother
shaking her head

and saying son mentiras
puras mentiras

pure lies she said
convinced of the purity I guess

Don Goyo
Meme's father

did not say a word
I don't know

if he believed
the moon landings

were real
or not

meanwhile the astronauts
were planting the American flag

on somebody else's
land again