Rusty metal lean-to
rattled, rubbed against
barbed wire fence
beckoned us to rise early
lunch boxes, school books
hung from our slender arms
we ran towards the shelter
built by prisoners
in our backyard.
Curled close together
shielded each other
from two taunting
high school boys
remorselessly they pecked us
our bodies crumbled
into the desolate llano
vultures stole our burritos
laughed at our broken English
until the yellow school bus
from Cerrillos rescued us.
We exited in Santa Fe
into the school yard
rattling with here come
the penitentiary kids.
I entered my third class
predators peck my
bones, eyes, mind
especially my tongue.
We live in AMERICA
they tell me
my Mexican name they
fling out the window
replaced it with one
I would never answer to
laughed as I tried to utter
heavy foreign words
that slid off my tongue.
My inner core retreats
to the little pool
in the middle of the desert
underneath prison walls
where shy sweet peas
bask in sunlight
prisoners in my backyard
planted an oasis of tranquility
to soothe my searing wounds.
Revised from June, 1996
