By hola | Published | No Comments
Poverty employs highly educated people
I’m walking around the trendy area
Southwest cuisine
Arugula crowd
Cappucino constituency
El barrio white chics with chardonnay
I’m evesdropping
Letting my ears be the witness
Picking up and stealing bits and pieces of enlightened conversation
“Well you know, I’m thinking about quiting, going to graduate school. I just don’t think I can keep on teaching. I mean I know that the kids need me, but I think I’m finally burning out. I mean all these problems. You know these days, you can no longer just be a teacher. You’re a parent, a counselor, a tutor and a big sister all wrapped in one. Besides, I need to think about my own growth.”
Happy hour at the Jalisco Tappas Cantina
A place to meet
And the feminist meat eater
Cesar, the hip Chicano who’s in a quandry about being a vegetarian
Derrick, the poltically correct victim
And Cathie, the girl who always says: “Could you please get us some more chips and salsa”
Ghetto with a twist of a lime
A lovely place
Where you can get smoked salmon and crime
Underage pregnant girls and salty Margaritas with lime
“I just came back from the national conference in Chicago. And remember that guy I told you I slept with at the last regional conference in Philly, Raymond, well he pronounces it “Ramon.” Anyway, it turns out that he is the key note speaker at the luncheon. Yeah, he’s the Executive Director of the biggest immigrant service organization in Chicago. So, we, well you know, again right. So now he wants me to move out there and work for him. But if I do, I feel like I’m breaking the golden rule, “never sleep with the people that you work with.”
The PhDs and scholars are lining up at the bar
Multichinganismo is the soup of the day.
The menu suggests suffering a la poetic vinagarette
Multicultural bullshit shishkabob
Fish with fishy inlcusive intentions
Chicken salad with strategic planning vinager
And our specialty,
Veggie token negroes sprinkled with immigrnat janitorial sauce
Welcome to Ghetto with a Twist of Lime,
I’ll be right back with your wine.
-Quique Avilés
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Quique Avilés is a poet and performer whose work addresses social issues. A native of El Salvador and a graduate of the Duke Ellington School of the Arts, Quique has been writing and performing for over 20 years, appearing throughout the Washington area, in Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Santa Fe. His poetry has been featured on National Public Radio and on subway posters. He has written and performed one-man shows, won awards, and directs D.C.’s acclaimed youth theater group, Paso Nuevo, maintaining through the years a lifelong commitment to mentoring emerging artists and helping young people find their voice.