Leap Frog
by my brother Val

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La Vida Perra

the maquiladora worker’s
tired hands

hadn’t seen the bristling sky since dawn
her oldest son turned into sweat so long ago

two narcotraficantes vibrate
barely recognizable sidewalks

hot wind doesn’t know
the meaning of stupid

a wasp curled upon itself
small pain all dressed up in its eyes

she grinds on car doors all day long
making sure to jiggle her ankles as she works

the ancient mountains she came from
would like that

wet nose of the family dog greets her
with a sword