The Young Ocho

She lived on the
ocho calles of Seguin

the lawless town
which floated above it

ringing its pan dulce
above her house

her skinny legs
filled with double

the police cars
wore a carnation

when Ocho
was popping fireworks

against the ancient sea
which still made its noise

along College Street
and flooded the library

where el ocho patas
had once flown on two fake feet