Insomniac for a high noon
called midnight. Another howling
Coyote ass chorus of disapproval—Malinche
was my Farrah Fawcett poster
no strap
no thong
no tongue
just hair
masculine taped to my bedroom wall
an imagined papacito
in a big bad brown
teen lobo
den for real.
The gigalo furrowed browed
spittled jowls highlights yellow
an estrangement with my pack
of sancho sinvergüenzas
swimming in lack
for Mommy Malinchismo
But we appreciate over time,
our bellies get full over time.
And these papers overwhelm an archive.
So for a good time call Cortez, a casual encounter.
No strings attached
cuando estoy triste I swipe right. | 
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