Henry Mauberley’s Belated Elegy For Selena

His true pendeja was Flaca Jimenez
and the dead Selena,
a mile away from the dishonored Juan Seguin,

colorless fat-assed Diego Rivera (Henry’s cousin)
painting a Mexican picture
of Frida Kahlo’s palo,

her heart beating like a smile,
pan de dulce leading the skill
to sweeten the pot.

For three years Selena sang
out of key with her time
which is, of course, expected

since she’s been dead about the head.
The Burne-Jones cell phone calls
have preserved her eyes.

The chico Alurista was still-born,
rhapsodized to hip-hop, rap
and the breakdances of the Ballet Aztlan.

But, it is only now
that the Leaning Tower of Corpus Christi
has fallen down on Pierian roses, broken noses,

that Henry Vendido Mauberley
sees Selena for what she truly was---
Helen with a song upon her hips.