Amor y Odio

The United States’ President’s plane crossed the border,

Two hours from his meeting with the Mexican President.

The blue-veined, needle dotted, AIDS carrying

Prostitute bit into her taco, sipped tepid coffee

And fingered spilled cilantro.

On one set of knuckles, AMOR,

On the other, ODIO.

Blue-black tattoos running up her hands,

Up her arms,

Colors an ill blue black blend.

I stared.

She invited me to her room, even though her son would be there.

I declined.

Those knuckles.

“Oh, amor y odio, the same, really.”

She said.

Five years or so she had before:

The cough, spit, blue, thin would overcome ….

I told her the Presidents would be meeting,

For I had looked up and saw the jet’s white stream in blue.

Not interested.

Some migrant tales from Arkansas,

Some of street life,

And a request for another taco.

I often tell this story around Valentine’s Day.

A park supervisor said:

“She was right, love and hate, one and the same,

Impossible without the other.”

Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky mid-February 2013

Author: Editor

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2 Responses to Amor y Odio

  1. Enriqueta says:

    OUCH! Love and Hate the same???!!!

  2. David E. Cowen says:

    gripping street poetry. nicely done

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