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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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