Henry’s Purple Love Poem For Sandra Cisneros

You bring out the Mexican in me,
your purple house meandering,
the mind Malinche in the purest form, reform,

the river in the canyons of the city, pity.
You took that picture of Henry
for the cover of his third book, Henry crook,

unbeloved Chicano poet that he was
and still continues to be, agree,
Henry won’t get down on his knees, pee.

The Mexican in me is brown and beautiful
and ugly just like the agringado---
who woulda thought the only ones left, Paul, Ringo!

Henry writes his angry poems,
his poems about the truth,
the truth’s horrible knives sticking out of it,

the lies are filtered out, El Grito, Frito Bandito.
You bring out the Mexican in me
even though I’ve been Chicano all my life.