¡Ay
Mexico!
I wake up in the morning
And I feel you crisp on the cusp of my chin
The left-over scent of last night’s dream
I prepare my breakfast
And I yearn for your sweet tamales
And drool to have my stomach full of you
And pine for pico anything
I brush my teeth
And wish I were but
Whisking bits of gallo from my gums
Not peanut butter spread
Onto store-bought breads
I drive my “trusty Musty” to the school
And I hear you blaring in the speakers
Rich rancheras, followed by the ballads
Oh, how I shake with smiles
And can’t stop tears
From leaping from my eyes
In hopes that they might too
Succumb
To foreign beats
Each drip shakes to the bass
Reverberates into conscious lakes
But all dries up as I pull into the parking lot.
‘
tis afternoon
And speckled throughout the park,
I see you:
Pushing your tots into strollers
Or heckling with some friends
By the chocolate cake birthdays
Else bending in the gardens
I can smell you in the carts of Los Angeles
Meanwhile, I sit spread onto my floor
With a pair of steadfast eyes
Each one glued to the pages of Neruda
I melt away in your cousin’s poems
I make believe that I am in Lorca’s plays
Y en los cuentos de Borges
Ay Mexico
I cannot stand another breath
Without you in my breast,
Ven pronto mi amor! |