The Non Sequitur Of Life In The Barrio

alejandro ran
all the way home

with the stolen
thirteen dollars

still in his
sweaty hand

he threw the knife
in someone’s backyard

the moon
gathered barrio dust

the stars stuttered
dark-brown like alejandro’s life

the other stone
the one displaying

the Mayan calendar
beyond 2012

is still lost
and buried in the jungle

waiting
to be discovered

itching to tell
its secrets

if only
to gringos

alejandro planning
his next pendejada