- Tecate’s women cross the grounds,
- smooth warm clay in motion,
- sculptures down from their pedestals,
- moving to chambers booked solid for the week.
- Tecate’s women will soothe away
- the wrinkles in pale fuzzy skin,
- unclench muscles wound tight by
- infighting on the fortieth floor,
- by alimony battles and Junior's
- third involuntary drug rehab.
- Tecate’s women cannot be found in
- elevators, conference rooms and airplanes.
- They walk the ground that they are of,
- giving present form to the genes
- of a thousand years, right here, in this place.
- These are the bold bones, the black eyes
- that welcomed Spain, not far from where
- you are standing.
- Give us your tired, your rich, your
- yuppie gringas yearning to
- stop hyperventilating,
- trying for some reason to be
- bonier. We do not share such concerns.
- The curve of the earth is rightly echoed
- in a hip, a breast, a calf.
- But we will soothe you, heal you,
- send you back north,
- feed our black-eyed children with your tips –
- you are welcome here, pobrecitas.
- De nada, señora, de nada.
- You will come again next year?
