Chicano Poet

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Random Thoughts On The Way
To His Hotel

Artemio gets into the green & white taxi
with the word written
in Mexican Black Letter.

In the distance a pyramid
to get rid of, he thinks.
Old Spanish guts still spilled, there, he points.

Paz said La Malinche did it for moola
with a mula, it’s difficult
to assess the difficulty therein.

The better part of the Aztec race
joined the other side
claims the same Paz,

and the cowardly lion Refrain Huerta
was afraid of the delicious door,
he called it, la puerta rica.

Artemio finally arrives at his hotel,
The Hotel Moctezuma,
the pick pocket

eight year old boys
swirl like Tasmanian devils
in the nearby alley.


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