Poem by Melissa Lozano

 Chicano Aztec Lover
_______________________________________________

Bronzed skin hitting the afternoon sun

And it’s a Sunday afternoon of Mariachi

Festival fun. So many Chicanos in the park

Wearing their Sunday best, macking

Socializing in the San Jo heat.

Chicano Aztec Lover.

Some wear their colors on their sleeves

But me I am sending out that vibe you know that vibe.

I’m looking for a tall Moreno guapo Chicano Aztec lover kind of guy.

And then there he is next to the oldies vendor stand.

A bronzed firme Chicano and I am thinking to myself he has to be down.

Down enough to go down to the barrio and buy me a real carne asada taco

and not one of these overpriced sin queso sin aguacates tacos.

He must wear obsidian rocks and tongues

around his neck. He must whisper my name in Nahuatl.

and if he’s a poet, a definite plus.

Chicano Aztec Lover.

I bump oldies out of my 64’ and I pray to my mini

Virgen sanctuary located in the back of my trunk.

Just to prove to you baby, I ain’t about no junk.

I’ve read the Chicano Manifesto from front to back

back to front and now it’s my turn

to read you. I come for reals baby.

I want to be your Chicano Aztec Lover.

Let me wrap my long hair around your body.

I’ve been growing it for years for my Aztec dance tribe.

My bronzed body is tattooed with the Aztec calendar.

The symbols of the United Farm Workers and a tear drop to boot.

I may not have served time but I feel I am a prisoner of this country.

I don’t fly Mexico’s flag on Cinco de Mayo

but every day. I want to be your Chicano Aztec Lover.

I just don’t pump my muscular body with weights and ego.

My body is a temple and you

shall worship it. But enough about me.

Y tú, como te llamas?

Me llamo Chicana

Sin verguenza fuerte Azteca

Discoteca mama poeta

love him and

leave him lover.

And if you could

please move

you’re

blocking

my sun.