Chicano Poet

Thursday, January 12, 2017

The New President

The new President had no asshole
so shit built up inside of him
it came out of his mouth when he spoke
the lowly citizens called him
the Man of Manure
and all sorts of nasty names
which he himself seemed to be proud of

his grown children had no assholes either
so shit built up inside of them
and when they spoke
it was like a dynasty of diarrhea

and when the new President 
led his country into war
the enemy surrendered pronto
afraid the President would open his mouth
and cover their country with shit

the new President had no asshole
shit came out of his mouth when he spoke

Friday, December 30, 2016

Aztec Priest

Andres Sobaco fat ass that he was
had heart problems of course
he didn't have insurance
which is the American way
so he crossed Trump's fence into Mexico
found an Aztec priest in Tepito
the priest cut out Sobaco's heart
tinkered with it
like only an Aztec priest knows how
and Sobaco's heart was as good as new
our fat ass Sobaco alias el Numbnuts
came back to the States running
though he'd never been able the run before
his woman-like breasts bouncing up and down---
that goddamn Mexican making America great again!

Sunday, December 25, 2016

To Walt Whitman 

hey man, my brother
prophet democratic
here's a guitar
for you
-a chicana guitar-
so you can spill out a song
for the open road
big enough for my people
-my Native American race
that I cant seem to find
in your poems

by Angela de Hoyos

Thursday, December 08, 2016


El Numbnuts had once loved a girl so much
that he wore her out literally wore her out
rubbed the flesh right off his own flecha
wore down all her beautiful lips
wore down her heart
until it was only a few hollow veins
wore down her buttocks
until only her tailbone was left
wore out her arms
until the bones became windchimes
even the wind exclaimed
what up here
el Numbnuts had once loved a girl so much
that he wore her completely out
nothing left of her nada nothing at all capiche
now that's what I call love

Thursday, December 01, 2016

Black Bird Singing In The Dead Of Night

What would happen if Andres Sobaco
alias el Numbnuts was a blackbird
stuck in the barrio like the rest of us
eating pebbles (ah, a stoneaterrean)
and forsaking dragonflies and earthworms
after a dirty barrio rain
you know the kind of rain
I'm talking about
oily and hanging over the streets
that haven't been paved since 1960
and el Numbnuts flaps
his dark dark wings
you'd think night had indeed descended
out of nowhere and caught you
by surprise indisposed indiscreet
cheating on your wife
with your wife's underage niece
just then el Numbnuts flies off
to the neighbor's rotting chinaberry tree
you see him arching his back to poop

Sunday, November 20, 2016

My Seguin

Remember when Gaudalupe Street
ended just below Joe F. Saegert school
the drain pipe oozing into Walnut Creek
of course you don’t
you weren’t born yesterday
I was
and I’ll drag all those memories
around with me
until the day I die
and then my Seguin
the one that fills my head
will rise up into the sky
and come crashing back down
no one will hear it but me
and then it will be your Seguin

to do with what you will

Friday, November 11, 2016

In this incarnation, El Numbnuts was a heavy set Chicano living
in the Westside of San Antonio, in a house that belonged to
his abuela, his grandmother, who had lived long, long ago
in a galaxy far, far away.

Rosa's Birthday

in memory of Felix Sanchez

El Numbnuts girlfriend didn't have
long beautiful black hair
no beautiful eyes
and definitely no ears
on which to hang golden earrings
she had no voice
so yeah she couldn't
talk dirty and nasty in bed
yeah you guessed it
she had no mouth
and no beautiful nose
with which to breathe
no arms with which
to hold him tight at night
no beautiful thighs
to spread open wide
no spine to arch during sex
no beautiful ass
to let him climb
el Numbnuts girlfriend
didn't have long beautiful black hair
and today was not really her birthday