Poetic Episode In Juarez
The violent little poet had tried to cut her throat
when he remembered he was a poet.
The lyrics poured out of him like candy
from a busted piƱata.
Each poem in his lovely book could easily win over
his harshest critics he thought.
And Rigoberto Gonzalez would probably review it
for the El Paso Times.
He put down the knife thinking
I might leave Juarez this merry minute.
He was saying this out loud in nervous Spanish
as a crowd of open-palmed policemen gathered.
The girl rubbed her reddened throat
realizing she would be just fine.
As our poet hurried across the bridge into El Paso,
the Rio Bravo was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
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