Do You Think
Do you think this is a sad day
a sad night
full of tequila full of el dorado
full of banana solitudes
And my chorizo face a holiday for knives
and my arching lips a savannah for chuchifritos
and my spit curls a symbol for you
to overcharge overbill oversell me
these saints these candles
these dented cars loud pipes
no insurance and no place to park
because my last name is Cortez
Do you think this is a sad night
a sad day
And on this elevator
between my rubber shoes
in the creme de menthe of my youth
the silver tooth of my age
the gullah speech of my one trembling tit
full of tequila full of el dorado
full of banana solitudes you tell me
i use more lights more gas
more telephones more sequins more feathers
more iridescent headstones
you think i accept this pentecostal church
in exchange for the lands you stole
And because my name is Cortez
do you think this is a revision
of flesh studded with rivets
my wardrobe clean
the pick in my hair
the pomegranate in my hand
14th street delancey street 103rd street
reservation where i lay my skull
the barrio of need
the police state in ashes
drums full of tequila full of el dorado
full of banana solitudes say:
Do you really think time speaks english
in the men’s room
—Jayne Cortez
SHARKPACK Poetry Review 