Friday, December 31, 2010

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
my sun.

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