Run From La Frontera


Run From La Frontera

Just a boy of twelve
Not too strong, not too sure
“Vamos al norte,” they said
“ Listen to the coyote!”

These men of my family
Pleaded with me
Tugged me, pushed me, scolded me
Into reluctance, step by step

Falling behind them... Unnoticed
I turned and slipped behind a shed
The rest were pulled north
Like moths attracted to a light bulb

See the wall, in all its rusted glory
But it repelled me
And I felt the pull of Morelia....
De mi Abuela

Behind the shed, I poked my head... Out
They’ve lost me, dollar signs fill their eyes
Lemmings they are, the border their cliff
Let them fall into the desert abyss

Two weeks now on this road
Ever so parted from mi Padre, Primo y Tio
This road ever so long and hot
Eating well on fruits from a farmers lot

Sneaking what I can get
Took a rooster from a pen
Killed it first with a stone
Tied it to my belt and started for home

My directional pointed south
Toward a sheltered spot en la playa
Cerca del surf
Where I can roast this tough old gallo

Over a fire of driftwood
Where the sounds and sights of Moralia
Will flicker and pop en mi cabesa
With the warm smell of tortillas

Handmade by mi Abuela
Wafting through my senses
The distance between us growing shorter
Now so many kilometers from the border

What is the fate of my Father?
And my Cousin and Uncle?
In that murderous borderland
Which I could not stand

Working now for bus pesos
Scuffling in an ally with a bandit joto
Scarfing pan dulce from a dumpster
Dreaming of mi escuela....

And of Moralia.... just down the road
I return home, not as a coward
But as a patriot, un nieto
My Abuela’s little boy

Future vaquero... scholar... torero...
Padre... patron... revolutionary... ranchero...

By:

Jesse Alberson
Tucson, Az

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