leaving DF
like shed skin
water on feet to clean the city off me
if there is one of something
there must be 25 million here
outskirts, slums, mucho graffiti
locked shut
"we will be driving out of here
for a long time"
un ratito= a hot second
things i taught- stolen from film
no, never put there
is a plate of tamales on your kitchen
table, where you sit, grey wife beater,
where your papa comes in`
'mama, hay muchachos en la cama-
no se que hacen...'
where i am leaving, the houses spread up
over mountains like an open sore
it is all a market
no te dejes surrender, waiting
by the side of the road
holding groups of flowers
laying in trash-strewn grass, oblivious
making out mexiquenos
"quieres hacer amor?"