"burritos" poems
I love being Chicana because it gives me a sense of belonging.
I hate being Chicana because I am not a true Latina, nor am I a true American.
I love being Chicana because of the authentic food my family brings to the table.
I hate being Chicana because people assume that all I eat are burritos.
I love being Chicana because I was born with the ability to move my hips and dance in a way most white girls can’t.
I hate being Chicana because I look white and not Mexican.
I love being Chicana because it gives me a reason to embrace a beautiful language.
I hate being Chicana because people automatically think I can speak English and Spanish perfectly.
I love being Chicana because I have the most caring family.
I hate being Chicana because I was raised in a lower-middle class household.
I love being Chicana because I was raised to learn and appreciate the value of everything.
I hate being Chicana because I am expected to bear children and marry a hard-working man.
I love being Chicana because it sets me apart.
I hate being Chicana because I am expected to know American history as well as Mexican history.
I love being Chicana because I was born in a free country.
I hate being Chicana because I feel out of place when I travel to Mexico.
I love being Chicana because I have created goals for myself that no one ever expects me to me reach simply because I am Chicana.
I hate being Chicana because people don’t believe in me or my abilities.
I love being Chicana because I have the strength and willpower to prove them wrong.
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 2:17 PM UTC
I find myself diving inside of you where the weird dream shamans draw sketches of naked humans.
And you’re a human, and we're both naked. You’re purple, you’re just the perfect shade. I place my flag inside, to abscond us away inside of a womb where our world will open to portals to all of our favorite places. A floating haven, of cashmere. Gestating where the climate is warm and damp, and coloring me dark with wine—sweet wine of lovers, penal forgotten, and fermented anew in maternal rite, because…
This swarming melodic nectar that swims through my nostrils and rolls in my eyes cannot be drank casually. It’s the elixir of love. I love you,
And in you, I find that I love myself.
What’s more, the shamanists exclaim, “She wants to give you all of herself.” Yes, they’re right. Even what I do not love so much, I want you to have, if you’ll take it, because I have to live with it, and if you live with me, you’ll have to live with it too. And then, when you crack open your sternum to let the things in, the scribes of my life’s doing, of ancient passion proclaim! They burn their papyrus scrolls soaked in the blood that I drew from my veins to pass unto yours— and you swallow them whole like divine burritos. And then we are ready for the world to fall suddenly, if it felt so inclined. Now that our chests are pressed together, and our tongues are fused tight. We are the daughters of the prima mother. We are the goddesses of our dreams.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
Walkin' thru the grocery store section,
To that aisle, yeah, it's not just con-cession...
Turn every crunch into Hea-ven, -yeah
(Oh, you are...)
Crun-chee on the coldest day
Taste buds explode, every, 'kind-of-way'
Make me wanna savor every moment of cheese-y, slow-ly
You pleasure me, my taste, taste buds, you put it on!
Got the taste-y, know how to turn it on...
The way I nibble on a pair, a clutch of fried corn, not an ear...
I take it easy, baby, so we can last long!
Oh! you, you feel crunchy 'in-my-mouth,' salivated,
not full...
Mouth like tasting, like an,
an amazing plan
Feel your taste, my mouth a pulse-Oh!
Oh, yeah -Ya, ya me in store aisle,
so nor-mal
Tostitos and Doritos, I say No Mas!
And so, no chip will, will replace you!
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
Please respect, it's just Cheetos,
No, no, I don't want no Doritos!
No matter what you ask it's not Dorit-o-os!
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
Nothing taste quite like Cheetos,
No Tostitos, no Doritos, nor a burrito.
I sound Spanish or Latin when I end words in a -oh,
Oh, OH YEAH,
Oh-o...
When I end my words in 'O'
Sounds like I know
Something like, I'm not loco?
Cheetos brands, -favoritos
(Favorito, favorito, ba-by)
Morning I don't like to 'Eat-oh'
Breakfast, eggs or -gritos
Instead I woof, -the Cheetos!
And know I voted, twice for Obam-ma,
Didn't even have, -American Mom-ma!
Car tires, Yoko-hama...
Back to my Latin voice, now, Oh-o...
You say to get that face and taste -eh he bang-bang
You say why doesn't it explodo like me mi bang-bang?
For me those chips you know there is no other
No question, fill your mouth, tongue, smother
Yo no other makes me sing it so suave
Impressive crunchy, disputes 'saliv-eh'
Pass it to, pass it too, suave to cheese oh?
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
Put that bag back in front, me, I'll destroy ya
Stop being malicious or I'll destroy yah!
Pass it to, pass it too, suave cause it Cheetos,
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
You want friends you better break out cheesus
There's no other way now to please us!
Oye!
crunch
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
When I end my words in 'O'
Sounds like I know
I know...
Something like, I'm not TA-CO?
Cheetos brands, -'favor-AH-ri-tos'
(Favorito, favorito, ba-by)
Morning I don't like to eat no
Breakfast, eggs or -gritos
Instead I woof, -some Cheetos!
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
This is how we do it up in Long Island, boroughs,
No tacos, burritos and no churros
all we ever want is those Cheetos!
Ay-o no burrito
Pass it to, pass it too, suave to cheese oh?
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
Put that bag back in front, me, I'll destroy ya
Stop being malicious or I'll destroy yah!
Pass it to, pass it too, suave cause it Cheetos,
No want your Doritos, doritos, ha doritos
You want friends you better break out cheesus
There's no other way now to please us!
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
Des Puh -CHEE-TOS!
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 9:00 PM UTC
Big old jade earring hung from that haunted necklace, swinging from this and that and the other way where and if that sky upstairs let go of the thing I wanted you to be but a break in the system, no a malfunction in that suction of a love that you tried to forget about but feel those typing keys on the fingers that break knees and the heels up and up with the ***** a lingerin' and thats sounding like a new pounding, the one upstairs with the translucent roof ghostly and guess i got a new boot thats fixing itself to elate another prisoner upstate where the worries are always about the women.
Yeah, that women with the diamond ring with her children by her side thinking about the monastery she never visited a big time act act act in a dress that helped her enough and forgot about the rest. But we all move on quick to detest times test with the burritos that she never ate because of the figure she imposed that she got from her transistor radio and the yearly subscriptions of the ghostly ghost that haunted her in the moat around the castle of stairs up ripunzel with dragons a aflame listening to the same wishy washer story of old uncle Maury and the twenty ten twelve salute to the mastery of the fiction of listening, another riddle in the twiddle beneath the sheets that were once painted gold but her husband done left her and she's moving to seattle to start up some new cattle spreading the seed of 1910 where time stands still with his drink in his hand because the guy has got to get around to something with all that talent, with all that anger with all that impulse that proves itself time and time again it will never be enough for a salvation sanitation with the twisty fro's of yearly ye and ye bouts of fights she twisted in that shout that she knew, she knew she swears, what it was all about.
May 6, 2011
May 6, 2011 at 10:10 PM UTC
Sometimes
There is no poetry
Playing Far Cry 3
Getting cheeched
Unlocking cheivos
Eating mac and cheese
4 monsters Yo!
MICROWAVE BURRITOS!
Chop sticks and cheetos
You need those
To keep your controller clean
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
there should be an island of awesome
and it should have surf
and i should move there
...
i think if you thought you were awesome all the time life could take a turn for the better
like imagine
everything as awesome
it would make all things such good vibes
like ***
burritos
high fives
all such awesome things but made with awesome
unreal
...
news flash, YOUR AWESOME!! bahleedat!
...
STAY AWESOME!
Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 4:55 AM UTC
between giggles, toys and text messages,
dolls emulate strippers and **** stars;
~ did you know...?
between lights-out and sunrise,
sleep-over tongues and pubescent fingers linger
down-low deep into the night;
~ did you know...?
between the final whistle
and the minvan-drive home,
men and boys mingle naked
in shower stalls
eye to eye-ball;
~ did you know...?
between study hall and midnight,
the temperature in boarding rooms
rises like butter beans and burritos
baking prurient pies to last
a lifetime
or 2;
~ did you know...?
between the clean wedding and nasty divorce,
covers are blown
like crack ho's
hustlin' for a hit,
exposing every vice
and the woeful frailty
of man
~ did you know...?
between birth, puberty and death,
humans emulate dogs,
weasels,
and fleas;
~ did you know...?
~ P (#Pablo#DYK)
(8/10/2013)
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 3:55 PM UTC
Rolling hemp
Legalized
Sweet Jesus
Wheelchair bound
Brave heart
Deems respect
Grinding brown beans
Aroma wafts
Favorite mug
Burritos
Frijoles
Flatulence
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 8:09 AM UTC
we each bought
a burrito from
that same van
i would visit back
when i lived there
two pork burritos
one with added
sweet potato
brazenly requested
the other simply
the expected guac
my overconfident request
should have cost more
than I was charged
but the man serving
could not bring himself
to demand the full cost
for "just" a burrito
we sat and ate
on the bank of the river
that i used to
think of as mine
we bit
we chewed
we swallowed
catching up
as napkin-less
salsa-dripping hands
were licked clean
and wiped dry
across the thighs of
already marred jeans
May 20, 2023
May 20, 2023 at 5:57 PM UTC
"Dank-ass, homemade breakfast burritos for dinner
with coffee on the way?
This is ******* Heaven."
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC
Rinse
Repeat
A simple man, trapped by society,
Raised to feel indebted to his family
His fantasy is printed and framed
Above the job's lobby. A beautiful
Scene of the mountains in Nagasaki.
The clear air clears the clouds
Of the the solvent factory
So he sits and stares
Ever unsure of his trajectory.
Rinse
Repeat
The quality of his life is priced
At $4.50. If he can't get his fix
Of burritos and churro sticks,
His world turns to bricks.
His grip slips.
The slight weight shift on his hips
Strips his exuberant demeanor
Like a lunar eclipse.
Rinse
Repeat
When he tries to adlib the script,
Life and love kicks him in the intelligence.
His happiness doesn't take precedence
Over the dead presidents he needs
To keep his residence. It's evident
In his directionless aggressiveness,
He feels irrelevant to his existence.
So, he slows the pistons of his brilliance.
Rinse
Repeat
His silence has made him forget his presence
He's become convinced that washing metal prints
Isn't against his will. That the fulfill-
Ment of another's vision is the pill
To his sickness. Like the use of litmus
Will heal his mental limpness
Between 9 and 5. The only thoughts
He completes are rinse and repeat
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
i heard your clear deep
voice (singin’)
last year in
evening san antone
bleeding from truckstop P.A.
where i bought cactus burritos &
1 basket
heavensent peaches &
thanked you
for ev’ry one b/c only
someone like you could send a gift
so humble
.
Feb 26, 2012
Feb 26, 2012 at 11:55 AM UTC
Sweating like pigs
we avoid everyone's gaze
because in the world I grew up in
a second glance meant
giving them a chance;
blinged out heels
and tight shorts
leaves no one to guess at who we are
but we don't give a **** –
order our burritos
nothing special here
double large horchatas
and my hair seems too straight all of a sudden
but we're too high to be
overly self-conscious
or at all
so we laugh to each other
loudly
pretending
we're the only ones
there
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 12:15 AM UTC
Apparently the world is my burrito
Or so the philosopher said.
While I'm eating my daily bread
I relive decisions I'd like to veto,
And weep for the girl who'll never dance to my tune,
And pray that life, and my luck, will change some time soon.
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
I'm peskered by midnight burritos
The lime in my glass has gone south
My sweet little hound-dog, Pepito,
Is scratching my pants to get out
There's bloodstains and tears on my pillow
Cuz' your cheating heart bleeds from my eye
And the worm in the bottle
Has kicked me full throttle
But at least that old worm doesn't lie!
(everyone sing along!)
So, pour me one more dark mesquito, Sir
Let's drink til our pockets run dry
And with every sip
Let the Worm kiss our lip
Let's drink til the Moon fades away from the sky
Let's drink to forget our remembers
Let's drink to the old by-and-by
For the heart never learns
So let's drink to the Worm
Cuz at least that old worm doesn't lie!
(One more time!)
So pour me one more dark mesquito, Sir
Let's drink til the bottle runs dry
We'll sip and we'll slurp
And we'll belch and we'll burp
And **** like the dickens and make the girls cry
We'll drink to the ******* and Beauties
Those cuties of lost love denied
We'll drink from the hip
And we'll treasure each sip
Cuz at least that old worm doesn't lie!
It might take some practice
To **** down that cactus
With salt and a small wedge of lime
So drink up me brother
And I'll have another
Cuz at least that old worm doesn't lie!
May 26, 2011
May 26, 2011 at 6:07 PM UTC
I remember the last time we talked
you called me on a Thursday afternoon
I asked how you’d been
you were fine
and if you were still working
at that bakery in West Hollywood
no, you had quit 5 months ago
we talked for twenty minutes
but all I could think about
was how we used smoke *** in your bedroom, watching
cartoons for hours
or when we’d walk to Aldaberto’s
for horchata and chicken burritos
and the days we skipped school and drove to Malibu
to smoke cigarettes at the beach and drink Mountain Dew
mixed with ***** we stole from your dad
you asked me
how I’d been
I lied and didn’t tell you
how I’ve been drinking more lately
and that I still sleep on
the same side of the bed
as if you were going to show up one night and crawl in next to me
and yes, the dog is good
we now go on walks every morning
and yes, my diet is still poor— I know, I smoke too much
but I’m glad you’re doing fine
we talked for twenty minutes
and I hated it
because I didn’t
everything felt like it used to
except no one said ‘I love you’
before hanging up
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 9:39 AM UTC
I am from a row of white and gray
houses on a loop,
from green lawns
manicured and rugged
Bird song, barking dogs
living silence,
the crying of peacocks.
One of the oldest
kids in
this neighborhood.
I am from a green gray house,
screened by blue Plumbago and Orange Vine.
Deep shade under
reaching branches
overflowing with red.
From bromeliads and wind-chimes,
slippers piled by the door.
Lived in rooms with
messy harmony.
Music slips from under doors
and books
stacked
high.
I am from a family of four,
Dad yelling, red in the neck,
“Do your homework!”
Mom watching, trying
to keep me doing my work.
“God helps those that help themselves.”
Brother playing Halo on legendary,
DeadSpace only at night.
“ Before all else be armed.”
Me doing math,
headphones on,
a world away.
“She wasn't where she had been.
She wasn't where she was going…
but she was on her way.”
I come from boxed cheerios,
Brother's signature explosion on a plate.
Curry, bean burritos, spaghetti,
fish, papayas, steak
and spicy chilli
I come from T-shirts and sneakers.
Forever in blue jeans.
Tunic tops, velvet dress.
Slippers, necklaces, hair ties
and bracelets.
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
I was thinking about diners and non-fancy things.
Like morning breath and not having to do things.
People with day jobs behind marble desks
Staring at clocks
Looking their best.
And 3am Ihop, and highways
Lying on the floor and sitting up cause you need to laugh.
Drive to the riverside
Plastic bag of burritos
Those little styrofoam cups filled with heaven
and cinnamon.
Mar 1, 2011
Mar 1, 2011 at 12:40 PM UTC
Love is a 4 letter word that i refuse to believe because of the way i saw my mom break when my dad walked out
Because of 1 syllable that can destroy every bit of a beating heart
Love is a 4 letter word that i refuse to believe because in 3rd grade when my best friend told me he loved me he stabbed me in the back and stole my favorite pencil
Because love feels god when lips are touched and promises are made but what about when tears shed or when the first boy who says he "loves" you kisses your best friend and lies like a coward leaving ur heart ripped and shredded
Love IS cruel and love IS rude and boastful
Love is why piggy back rides and video games are so fun and why two dollar burritos and mountain dew taste so good
but Love is also why falling off your bike hurts so bad or why failing the only test you studied all night for kills your gpa
Love takes away pain but then shoves it right back into your wounds
Love is a 4 letter word i refuse to believe because of the way I see the old couple walking down the street and I'm scared that won't ever happen to me
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
Hippity hippity hobo hopped a train in mobo, whilst mobo and toe-do flowdoed down dits bitsy mountain. She-ha and he-haw hast rode bikes to sleetah where burritos were bandits and bandista's on barnyard fence. Smoky and choky were high on mangozee and tis they loved posies of the same tilling field. Geuber and Gruber maketh infants as scoopers whilst dust is their slooper,
Slippery dipsy dask.. . uncle tis and Mrs tas. Tadpole Bennie, neon jenny, Mike and shunny.. Bunnies of two..honey's of few. Crick-crackle pop the hobo didst hop, as I caught him, as he fell, he bumped his head and yelled...( Hobo forever)
As I smiled to his passions...
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 1:45 PM UTC
life is but a dream...
Lithuanian speaking parrots
dangle alluringly toxic grapes,
but you breakfast on hyacinths
and suddenly turn cruel in April.
Seductively sleepy lidded women
grip you with invisible fangs
squeezing away any latent lust.
Your cat silently reads your will
licking his sharp, sodden chops.
The IRS sends you an inviting
prison manufactured Christmas card.
The car you can't drive finds a
new owner on Craig's List and
leaves you stranded and alone.
Unable to reach the grocery store,
you will choke on frozen burritos.
Your good cholesterol joins the plot,
turns bad, and conspires to ******
Lowly earthworms dug for fishing
mutate into malevolent Blacks Mambas.
AARP hounds you to rejoin
no matter how many times you move.
Your high-speed Internet connection
devolves into a slow, taunting swamp.
Your toenails just won’t shut up.
The sun rises suspiciously late.
And you've only been awake an hour.
Could be a very long day.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 7:16 AM UTC
I've imagined a life with him
I can see it.
He, he has a dog but
I knew he would before he told me.
He's one of those people that
pulls other people in
like the color
white
because everything
looks great next to white
We would talk about work
together because he
is one of those
people who
works
ninety hours
a week and so am I.
But if he is white, I am
off white there's
just something
a little
off
about me
like a dog that growls
unexpectedly when all you want to do is pet it.
And off white is probably
the only color that
looks weird
off
next to white and
he has a dog who probably doesn't growl.
anyways.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 1:33 AM UTC