Nasty muchachos once feared Marisol
with a razor-blade ready inside her cheek
when push came to shove or lasted too long.
Snow white and old in Newark now,
she shivers for food and her landlord
who winters in Boca Raton
and doesn't have to come in from the cold
at the Essex County Welfare Board
to plead with me for emergency heat
who sees in Marisol's red eyes
brown paper bags stuffed under her seat
on a red eye flight from San Juan.
She signs on the line with her “†"
duly witnessed and noted,
and slides me a bottle with one pill left
"para la vagina, Señor,”
that burns like a worn out razor blade
in a cold cocked one room apartment.