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Declaration of Co-Dependence

Updated on May 15, 2012

America conceived my brothers and I
After dust of revolutions and bloody cesarean cessations.
She lusted for my father Mexico’s young, brown
Skin tones and dusty textile hair.

When he gave in to mother
Her vineyard rows and her
Pacific orchards were ripe enough
To let my father take her
So she removed her wedding dress
And her mask of chastity.

He pacified her dark desires
And he gave her his posterity.
Their veins tangled when they shared
Hypodermic needles of needing low wage labor
And a high of masochistic, humbled pride.

Father chose his own poverty for a taste of her
Voluptuous, mountainous flesh of earth
That was once of milk and honey gold
But ever since Brazeros’ arms work no more
She leaves a copper after taste when he eats her skin of bronze.

It is late in both their lives and
Both their sins lie at the door and I still live in a divided home
Where mother’s dress hangs on a flag pole
In remembrance of who I was,
Or who I am or who I could yet be;

My father’s hat smelling of mescal and
Organized sweat also hangs on a pole
At the other side of the room
As in remembrance of the cacti seed
That became a thorn in her

West Coast when I was grafted in.

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