WEBVTT

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The next poem is
also kind of local,

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although you can find this
most places in this country.

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But it's just based on buying
these great tortillas and bean

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burros down at the El Grande
Tortilla Factory here in town.

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And in a sense, looking
at those things,

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it's almost as if they
go so perfectly together,

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just like a stucco
and adobe house does.

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It's all a unity and I guess
that's what culture is about.

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So this is a kind of funny
poem, you could almost

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call it kayak-y in a way.

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It's also what I'd call
a shit eating poem.

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Anyway, it's called Bean Burro.

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The little faces curled,
a blanket between them.

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Whitewashed walls
roughening into dreams.

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Mother's soft adobe.

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The sun hammers it dry.

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Brilliant as dust, this desert.

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I'll cut it myself into bricks.

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All my teeth mud
caked, glittering.

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