Green

Green

15 December 2012

Immigrant pride and I got together too young.

I was impressionable

with abundant time for rationalizations;

Entitlement.

Redundantly questionable lines

crushed to granulation.

The rise of the working class to the middle:

A task executed by my parents;

A task that once made me bashful now inspires me.

We were poor: the floor was lava,

but the papaya trees were always fun to climb.

I’ve run the idea of spending most days falling in line,

taking each grain and forming an island.

And so I take every Sunday spent in mediocrity,

and pride myself in the achievement.

For the day that comes when I’ve transcended the line,

I’ll stride to delve in bereavement:

Always remembering how common I am.

I raise a glass to Mexico and the years I spent in transit.

The years I spent around the most common corner

learning from the peddlers and the followers.

I raise a glass to the red, white, and green

because lapses in appreciation are few and far between.

David González Valles