Hijo de Payasa

My mother clowns from the grave,
her big red nose strikes out
both Gehrig and Mantle.

Her large guaraches linger in the Fifties
and tell the old black lady,
sit your ass down and shut up.

She scratches at me from the windows
of an apartment building
and slams the curtains on my little hands.

You see what I’ve grown up
to be, momma?
She makes balloon animals for dirt.