This is what I'm afraid of
Measuring tape in hand
the Miami-Cubans find me wanting.
Hands placed, 10 and 4,
incoming traffic, you in the passenger seat.
Visit after visit on jobs.com
a big "no one wants" whatever I am sign.
Mami, sad.
Papi, sad.
A Snickers Candy Bar
The Golden Arches surrounded by red.
Bit by bit, blood turning away from me
and "my kind".
Discovering that my words mean
nothing.
The worst fucking word in the world:
potential.
© Yazcaminante, 2011
No comments:
Post a Comment