Chicano Poet

Saturday, February 10, 2018

American Elegy

dark ships being loaded
to come to America
those were barbaric days
much like today

Monday, January 01, 2018

Coming Home

The junked cars and other metals
they melted at the steel mill

whatever byproducts
they dumped into the Guadalupe River

like a tree
I grew ring by ring by ring

you can't carbon date
the future

my words thicker than water

my hometown falling apart
faster than my past

rusting and dripping
metal becoming dirt

if I put it in my mouth
it is me tasting the whole of it

reduced to the single thing
we all become

Thursday, December 14, 2017

La Virgen De La Chingada

La Virgen de Guadalupe
pulls out her dick
to bless La Raza.

She calls los niños
ill-gotten.

“Putas!” she shouts
at the abuelas.

“Culeros!” she yells
at the machos.

She jerks off
on Juan Diego.

Sometimes even La Virgen
can have a bad day.



Friday, December 08, 2017

El  Señor De Los Milagros

Just south of downtown San Antonio
El  Señor De Los Milagros
tried his best to cure me of tuberculosis

what a waste of time
those fifty years ago

the moon and sun
and all their dust
suspended in my lungs
like snowglobes full of bacteria

El  Señor is out of miracles now
the bones of God
blacken the sky

the gorditas they sell
in front of Mi Tierra on weekends
taste of the earth

and go down peacefully
to the show the world
that San Antonio's got cojones
but uses them
only in self-defense

Friday, November 24, 2017

Cheap Thrills

Named after a hot car
your lips
smack like a lion against the cage

partly responsible
for your Beau Brummell hands
your dad wanted a son
and your thighs
a stony fire

the man who took you
smelled of snow

your aunt's big fat boyfriend
crackling and twinkle-toed
innocent

in your black gym shorts
you shimmer
and give yourself to my mouth

full to the brim
you come crashing
out of the top of my head

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

Moat

Love the size of a castle moat
I spit in my hand
somebody's eye has fallen

she's wearing nothing to bed
pretending to be hungry and iced
a bird in sludge
grabs a pipe like this

my granddaughter on her first period
proud as a big palooka
I could be driving my truck
I could be soldiers
in a far away war

instead I crawl on my belly
inside a word
whose roof and walls
pin my ass to guilt

Friday, November 10, 2017

Dump Truck

Mad at your house
there on Hidalgo Street
but we were just a ball of fire
in your mother's geraniums

making love in the arroyo
did not satisfy our desires

the cops were looking
in the wrong place
we could hear them

my penis was a dump truck
oh to be a teenager again