Chicano Poet

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Mal Mascaras

His abuela knew well
that he was worse than cactus thorns

la zorra slinking
between garbage cans

he'd down
fresh hot tortillas with no respect

like a normal hijo de la
picked cotton

but from a muchacha's blouse
his proclivities were no angels

his abuela knew
his dark side

which had to be
spit out like sandia seeds

yet she loved him madly
her favorite grandson Mal Mascaras.


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