Man of La Mancha

 

( a man and his stained t-shirt,

the life of Andres Sobaco)

 

Reminiscing about his dead abuela

while he ate beans with Frito Scoops

 

a boiled bean or two

bounced off his dirty t-shirt

 

the old lady always ignored

Sobaco’s shortcomings

 

which came in a long list

“Mijo, if you weren’t my mijo…”

 

she left the sentence unfinished

there was not much to brag about

 

when it came to her feelings

of her fat, useless grandson.

 

“ Look, abuela,” Sobaco had once pointed 

to the broken sidewalk in front of their house

 

“Look, abuela, there goes that girl

who says she’s a man now.”

 

His abuela just shook her head

and said, “ Only God can make a man.”

Nalgada

That time Barbara

got up to read a poem

and I had the urge

to slap her butt,

remember, Coop?

San Antonio

always brings out

the beast in me,

and the cabron

behind my poetry.

 Purple Vaca

I never saw a purple cow

but I can tell you anyhow

beware of purple caca

don't ever trust a vaca