This is for the residents who remember And for the transplants who Have yet to be informed But have got an inkling
Burque has gone from Bustling to busted And back again
Growing up in the 80’s I learned about the Varying degrees of “sick” As my dad pointed out The pekid pachucos perusing Pharmacy isles Attempting to purchase Cough syrup with codeine
In the evenings Driving home down Central I would ceremoniously Count hookers
My parents would Precariously pack heat In the trunk of our car Or even in my mom’s special ***** pack With the hidden compartment For her .38 snub nose Because you never know Who will be in your home When you arrive
That’s a given When flop houses are Interwoven with prime real estate And barrio boundaries Border the bourgeois’ bungalows And Huning’s Castles
And residents rarely recognize Or realize That aside from the locals The European Jews Was the only group gutsy enough To settle here And create commerce Despite risks of being raided By Apaches
And they reaped the benefits Off Roma and Marquette Because the rewards Turned out to be greater than The risks
And up North Where Sephardic turned Crypto Conversions to Catholicism Kept the Messiah’s spirit alive But in basements They still did Chi fives!
I was saddened in middle school When I realized That many of our parents Were too ashamed of our roots To teach us Spanish And our Schools ****** so severely That most of us Didn’t learn English either
But hey – All you need to Communicate while cruising Are cat calls And the thumping boom Of the bass in the tubes And the hydraulic drop When they hit The hot spots From Tingley, Kit Carson and Central to Copper Each kid dreams that His ride Will be the show stopper
I could rant and rave And rattle off for days But bottom line – We have the most Curious state With mysterious qualities And in-depth histories But most of us are More concerned with Bud Light And Biscochitos Con Manteca Because it just tastes great!