[from Lydia Cortés's Lust for Lust, Ten Pell, 2002]
You Must Be in the Potatoes, Because You Look so Good
(Second Language Acquisitions)
The party will be the kind where people bring lucky pots.
My eyes laugh out loud, I get so happy to see him.
We got a ball and painted the city gold.
I coming from Alabama with a banjo on my lap.
It was raining hard animals.
The dollar got stopped right there.
Still for years I'm waiting for the green card, because for taped-up red papers.
A bird in the bush is better.
She was just at the top of the ice cube when she told one true thing.
The bark isn't on the right tree, so don't blame me.
What comes in her head she says, with no hair on the tongue.
When she gets mad, her toes goes traight in front of her enemies' ones.
They put the ax under the dirt, than made of themselves friends again.
I over listened to him when he wasn't looking for me to found out the secret.
To my face in all the colors he said the worser things to me.
He left me high and all dried up.
All my words went down over on his dead ears.
He's a real ignorant -- one of those white guys that have the necks red.
He's the kind who always have to founds the hair in the egg.
Like a wolf he acts crazy.
Always separate the men from the old goats.
Never walk like a bird to fight the red light.
Never look in a horse's mouth because is a big mystery.
Never say ever.
When the fan is blowing the caca, the people don't stay long time.
Lust for Lust