And Other Songs

Chicano I

3–23–15


Skin browned from hours under the sun laying walls of more than just brick & mortar, sharing crude jokes, a machismo vision of perfection.
Sweat soaks your shirt, defining each muscle, a Chicano god I long to worship.

At night you have your boots and hat, a ranchero hardened by life outdoors, prowling for a lady to make your own.
The music offers the chance to have your pick.
And the dance, a tribute to Aztlan, the home of your people.

The cerveza has you laughing, gives you the courage to be the center of the bar, women fighting for you attention.
The night is ending, you lead the lucky lady home. A backwards glance to meet my eyes.

I’ll be your mujer, tu Maricon si quieres.
But its late, and I’m drunk, your number tucked in to my wallet like a secret I won’t share.
Tonight you’ll be my sisters hombre, but tomorrow I’ll be you Papi.

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