From a Boxer and a General

She left in her daily drug-induced rage
He sat silenced before his plate of spam and rice
They would be the last of the marrieds in their barrio tenement
But somehow, she always chooses to return.

He wants to live the way he's been used to
She says she's suffocating and up and out is where she'll go
   "Stay with the filth and roaches!" She was cut from finer lace.
She had pigs and chickens
He rebuilt his village after every storm
She had a house that stayed put
His father was a rebel boxer
Her father was a slave-owning General
His father was regal as he swirled in his Aztec dances and
   split noses for a grand finale
Her father crowned his serfs by branding their skin with his royal seal
   and taking wives to show how grateful he was
He was a child rebel warrior
She was a child slave

He "made it" to the states from rebel favors and genetic wit
She came four years later, because he asked her to
He settled where the last names were familiar
She mocked his nonsense

The same battles have only moved to northern territory
The playgrounds are not much different than the old plazas,
   just as deadly

They would not teach the oldest daughter the old language,
   it was for her own safety, it was for their safety.
This daughter could not make east and west meet.
Her road will not appear on any civilized map.

© Copyright June 1999 Alice Aguilar

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