Metamorphosis

Holding court
in the kitchens,
under counters,
behind the sinks, and
on the streets.
Craving consumption and
barrio binging while
los vencinos bring swarms
of whistling good morning
pleasantries, buenos días.
Devouring de la calle currency,
“Did you see? Do you know?”
“She’s not who she says
she is…” (¿Cajera?)
“He’s not who he says he is…”
¡Qué pasa! ¡Callejera!
Chewing, biting, burning.
Masticating (publicly),
“I know you know what
I know you know.”
No. Nursery rhyme
jump rope goes:
Sticks and stones-
break broke broken bones.
Fallen by the word (¡Me molesta!)
bugged bothered but not broken.
Hester Prynne’s ornate letter A-
scarlet –lovely, sparkles in the sun
revealing a bugged house too small,
a caja packed with suspicions,
tape and addressed to:
“ the slut I know you’re
bent on becoming.”
Bumrush of creeping,
crawling and cutting
cartoon bugs,once happy
in the dark, now carrying on
in the middle of our street.