Chicano Poet

Friday, September 30, 2016

Young Barrio Girl Walking Alone On Zarzamora Street

Her breasts
like baby birds
in a nest

Thursday, September 15, 2016


I teach her how to play with my huevos
I show her how to scramble them
I suck her tongue out of her mind
the game of love and desayuno

the ins and outs of the night
I kiss her corazones over & over again
maybe I'm still a baby
maybe I still soil my diapers
after all I am only a man
I teach her how to play with my huevos

Saturday, September 03, 2016

The Hounds Of Heaven

The hounds of heaven turned out to be
just chupacabras
who sniffed me, circled me 
and then disappeared into the darkness
that in a word
is what is wrong with us Mexicans
even the shit we make up
wants nothing to do with us

Thursday, August 18, 2016


The six mojados at the Dollar General
were stocking up on the necessities
you need to survive in these
so-called United States of America
y muy pronto my amigos
tell met it's politically incorrect
to use the word mojado
but I tell them
well they were mojados
they'd just come in from the pouring rain
even that old white man
who just walked in
he's a goddamn mojado too

Friday, August 12, 2016

Macias Bakery

in memory of the bakery on Guadalupe Street

for my brothers Val and Julian

My brothers were at Macias Bakery
when Macias came out to the front
my brothers asked him
how do you make such good pan dulce
and Macias blurted out
" pura manteca!"
a split second later
my brothers could see
his dark brown face turn red
after having given away trade secrets
and every time we get together
we laugh our asses off
thinking Macias is happy as hell
making cuernitos para el diablo

Thursday, August 11, 2016

I Remember Abuelo

I remember abuelo in a green and white
striped short sleeve shirt
smoking a cigarette
as if it was yesterday
I remember abuelo holding a beer
the moisture on the bottle
the sun reflecting off of it
as he took a drink
I remember abuelo's thinning hair
as he brushed his hand over it
when he told a story or a joke
oh so long ago
like if it was yesterday
like if it was just yesterday

Tuesday, August 09, 2016

Deep In The Barrio

Buried deep in the barrio
I dug myself out
my bruised hands
couldn't hold a tortilla
my mouth was full
of mother earth
the sun blinded my eyes
I squinted trying to
recognize my neighbors
their dirty faces
gave me hope
buried deep in the barrio
is not such a bad thing
it makes you sing