Limp hair, Sopping, strung out Pallid skin You look hollow As if Lying on a hospital floor Was too soon for a coffin Hands smooth down frizz Your mouth, ajar Bits of chalk, grinning Only you could You itch at the humans Coming in And out In and out Who couldn’t oir tus palabras Thinking, too young and stupid An immigrant So you sat Waiting For the gringos tontos To fix you.