Abuelo Tanes y El Jute
By Roque A. Najera
A man so much a man
even in advanced age
refuses to use a cane
pushes away the help
and has never cried
even as my aunts and uncles died
in el Jute
from a disease
curable by pisto we never had
and by the social programs
that never came
He stares quietly through the bars of his house on a street he owns,
he controls,
that no Maroso can touch
because of the plomo
que nunca se le olvida
A man so much a man
who the world refused,
wasting away in gardens of the rich
yet fed us from the soil at our feet
and defended his castle with a corvo
Mi Abuelo Tanes
un corazón de campesino
pero de hierro.
***
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