Chicano Poet

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Electric Desgraciado

The Guadalupe Street gangsters
used to shave their heads,
electric desgraciado,

now the swings
at Blumberg Park
swing coke and rocks,

the marijuana
becomes the piranha,
asshole Amazon.

Sittting in Janay’s car
my hand in her underwear,
windshield wonder.

The car was flying sugar,
headlights spinning,
and hood in the neighborhood.

There’s a house fire
on the corner of Tony Lee and Fourth,
her haiku eyes piss me off.

What do you expect
out of a high school girlfriend,
we made up like moths.

My grandmother’s on the wooden porch
yelling I have school tomorrow,
the barrio swirls like a mirror,

there’s only so much room
to be reflected,
steering wheel silly,

no brakes,
impure chicano poetry,
gravel in the mouth of the poet.


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