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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