- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Mama Lila
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Her dress a loud
purple,
outlined in white
floral pattern
Dragging her body
in a choreography of
jerks
She looks over
to see the square
bench is full
bodies strategically
arranged so
as not to touch
even by accident
I jump up
earphones on
offering to give
up my turf
and she smiles
lowering herself
into my spot -
She is itching for
contact,
thanks me
and
wants to talk
I am deaf
to her attempts
Listening to my music,
I think about
my own
grandmother
wonder if she still
drags her crotchety
body about town
in her wild floral prints
and muted-loud fake
burgendy-hued buns
Hope some young girl
gives up her seat
for my
Mama Lila
on her way to visit
some niece or nephew
in San Isidro or La Punta
with anis flavored
candies
in her huge black purse.
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