by Rebecca Write

Created on: February 22, 2010

The margaritas here are good

Better than anywhere else in town

So I sit by myself at this little Mexican restaurant

And think about what a jerk I am

The furnace kicks on and the plastic fringe hanging from the ceiling flutters

It is Valentine’s weekend

And I notice there are red and white silk flowers on every table

And at the end of the wrought iron railing

The quesadillas here are good

Better than anywhere else in town

And self loathing is a luxury I cannot afford

So I strengthen my resolve to go forward

The sounds of Tejano music soothe me

The TV is on an anglo station

The sound is off but the words are in english

There is snow still on the ground

And on my roof it melts and runs into buckets by the wood burner

I have spent the past three summers on that roof

And it still fills up 5 gallon buckets and sweetlix tubs at a brisk rate

We can’t use the water for the sheep

Because it filters through the fiberglass insulation

I hate to waste rainwater

The furnace kicks on again

But it sounds like a chinook

Maybe because the young man at the next table

Just got back from Iraq

And he keeps trying not to talk about it

He keeps trying to talk about anything else

But everything reminds him of something in Iraq

It filters his speech so that he cannot use it the way he wants

Like my rainwater

He wants to be gentle but the objects in his hands

Slam onto the table

He tries to eat but the food stay on his plate

He can’t seem to be all that he can be

The margaritas here are good

Better than anywhere else in town

Self loathing is a luxury I can not afford

So I strengthen my resolve to go forward

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