Martin Street

Stray dog on Martin Street
eyes like a lost lover
the freeway humming like a bee
a cop strangles tacos

in days gone by
I ran up this street
my long hair stretching from Robert B. Green
the moon all sweaty in my hands
until I got to Cecilio's house

the San Antonio River made of newspaper
lies crumpled against a curb downtown
my tongue long as a sword

The Greasy Spoon

Back in the Fifties

a greasy burger joint

posted a sign saying

Mexicans served around the back

Negroes go on down the road

to Emma's Place

but at least they had the courtesy

to tell you where to go

and abuelo pulled the perro

out of the stationwagon

and let him do his business

right at the front door

to greet the gringo customers

my abuelo was such

a forgiving old man

Hormiguero

I'm done combing the Westside for ants
the dilapidated houses
refuse to suffer
old man Centeno's soul
cast aside like used gum
that won't stick to shoes

not even the ghost of ant mounds
spiral against dogs
who would know better
I'm done combing the Westside
for the sighs of ants
their little brown shoulders
I used to lean on