Chicano Poet

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Chamaco At The Alamo

Chamaco was a loose canon
blasting the hell out of the Alamo

look at them gringos run
he was having too much fun

Chamaco thought better of it
but his cabeza said nah

he had a gut feeling
(like when you eat tripas)

that he was doing the right thing
the canon balls flew and slew

later those inside became heroes
but for now they were zeroes

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

by the same guy who wrote Richard Cory:)

Elvin Escalante

His girlfriend was low on air.
Easy fix.

Her vagina
was made in China.

She made love
like hot dead girl.

Her orgasms
were wonderful he thought.

God had given her
everything man-made.

Inside his head
were thoughts he did not share.

Inside his head
all was exceedingly well

until the very day
he died.

He never harmed a flea
his tearful mother said.

His girlfriend
was deflated.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Western Swing

Lash LaRue
tricked the desert.

Bad guys
monopolized bad.

Bullets flew.
They had marvelous wings.

Our hero
whipped the Salton Sea.

The horses
were well-endowed.

The girl had to be rescued
from her vagina.

Her petticoats
were made of goats.

Her bonnet
dug around inside her head.

The stagecoach
was missing a tooth.

The desert had a tail to swing.
Our dear sun

longed for air-conditioning.
It would not arrive

for another hundred years.
But we degress.

Lash LaRue
rides tall in the saddle.

His pistols
ride their own dead horse.

The blonde heroine
dresses up her orifice.

The Marshall
seems quite taken with Lash’s lashes.

Lash’s thumb
rides off into the sunset’s hair.

The buttons on his cowboy shirt
go rah rah rah.

A fat dancehall girl
enjoys her manic Monday.

She’s spread-eagled
like an eagle.

loosens his lasso.

But he’s too much of a gentleman
or worse.

Thursday, August 09, 2012

Huntington Park

My girlfriend’s eyes
are rented spiders.

Her vagina
hums my dirty name.

were once her little girl.

I being her boyfriend
am but an axe.

The car thinks
and chews mojados.

In the barrio
anything is possible.

Two teenage girls
tower above their own nalgitas.

They are
pierced comadres from hell.

The Mexican radio station
will not suffer.

After a day at the park
I tell my girlfriend and her daughter,

the trees
naturally approve of murder and rape.

The transit bus
just now took a shit in the street,

and the beach
is too far away for lips.

Wednesday, August 08, 2012

Little Mexican Ice Age

My lover's heart
stands on the lawn.

interviews nice black stars.

Our darling Rio Bravo
spends the night in a motel and wets the bed.

gather like a gang across the border.

My shirttail
is a mirror.

My lover's thighs are full of paper cuts.
Her nipples soldier on into the night.

I ate the nosy Mexican neighbor's

My lover puts our dirty love sheets
in the toaster.

Thank God
we are frozen in time.