Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Poem: Milagros - An American Love Story

When she was born
her mother named her Milagros.
Her father was never around.
The neighbors said she was beautiful
but it was sad that her hair was a little kinky.
When she was fifteen years old,
she had dreams to go after.
When she was seventeen,
she dropped out of school
'cause it was the groovy thing to do.
When she was almost eighteen,
she opened her legs to Papo (who told her he loved her).
The night after, he told her to get the hell away.
When she was almost eighteen,
she was cool, she partied, she smoked
and got down a few times,
hoping someone would tell her
'I love you' (and mean it).
But time passed (and no one ever did).
When she was nineteen,
she had five abortions.
When she was nineteen,
she was cool, she was beautiful,
selling her wasted body on 42nd Street
to buy American Dreams,
hating the ugly smell of polluted breath
and old men telling her,
'I love you, you Spanish girl.'

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