Chicano Poet

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Lumbresita Mejicana

Of course you knew you were playing
with fire.

In the heat of the moment,
the nearby baseball stadium shed its metal,

the bridge busted out laughing
at either end.

Blackened, you swore you were purple.
The sky planted its foot on faith,

the smoke retreated with its tongue.
Meanings once meant so much to you,

your wooden sister held like a marshmallow
while I made love to her.


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