Angel Ruby Vasquez. “Corre, corre! 1980´s Inwood, NY”

I try and dodge every move of a fixed shooter like in Space Invaders

these shit aliens, I try and move but they keep coming like flies in a UFO

by the dozen. I stick and move remembering Julio Cesar Chavez.

Eight legs shoving, on the sidewalk pushing, kicking two-stepping,

and now running from these guys to stay away from these kids who are not half-stepping

each punch landing in the face is a street reminder had not been

stomped and beaten so many times yet.

Jose, Naris, and Bolita hit me up at this time,

body-covered aches from vigorous boxing blow as when backing then

The WBC Super featherweight 1985 title champ, do you know Julio Cesar Chavez?

I turned my face in pain over these boxing ring streets

spinning with pedestrians, hidden Yoruba healer’s vendors, fancy old cars

and those stupid kids, laughing at the fallen chamaco, as in

do you remember el Paco (Esai Morales) from the movie Bad Boys 1983,

when Mick O’Brien (Sean Penn) spared the life of this Latino,

looking like the White Shadow TV Show in

 the eyes of a white American Hollywood Hero?

The message repeats good defeats evil but in this case

I am not safe in this world full of flies with UFOs.

I ran towards the train station where a black & white graffiti character

on the wagon encourages me, “Keep stepping you can make it, Bro.”

I finally got onto it.

I closed my eyes.

I connect with my ancestors.

The graffiti black and the white guy

brings them from the iron walls and they show me

with black and white paint spray,

how they traveled from Yoruba all the way 

across to La Hispañola, where my mom was born!

And wonder… Why do I keep running from these flies clowns?

Eyes widen, hands sweating, stomach tightening, mouth-watering,

saliva slobbering down my mouth

the taste I feel, from the blood flowing down my cheeks, I am swallowing

my feet keep on stepping. I work the turning wheels moving forward a savor breath of life.

I run to the turning automobile spinning spun away from this deal cats have pipes in their hands

my legs in my neck from the blows of steel BOOM! POW! POP! CRUNCH!

Shots fired NEWS REEL reveals Ronald Regan hit Hinckley junior missed

Woo! I dipped, zipped, like MENUDO song Súbete a mí moto, as fast as lightning sent by

Santiago de Matamoros the Christian warrior, the conqueror

and jump into the bus fast as a loco, to grab ahold of the pole

except for El moco

I am not talking snot nose pouring mocoso

the big-nosed kid Naris grabs my legs

as I smell his hot, stink ass breath down my neck

I kicked him and he grabbed my shoe these mother flowers like to abuse

And they celebrate with one shoe.

As the bus drives away, a bomb of questions explodes in my head.

I am tired of these fools

“Fuck that; I must find a way,

Mom does not make breakfast every day

or walk me to the train, beer cans, and sleeping men

interrupt our relationship, like the TV show Facts of Life.

“You take the good, you take the bad,

you take them both, and you have the unpleasant facts.”

I wish this Uncle Luis and INS card episode end soon

it would not have ruined the family’s mood.

That is when I felt the blast POW! POW! POW!

from the hostile combine swings flying high without wings

of Jose, Naris, and Bolita blowing my senses in the wind.

As fast as crossing the border fence

immense raging strength from within arms strong

I fought back and released a fist of fury, touch of death, punches

Like Bruce Lee, do you know him? I had them out of breath. It is a brawl.

“Shortie, do not back down?” questions Jose,

as Naris and Bolita stand next to him, breathing heavily

I respond, “I just want to score breakfast at school.” 

A concerned stare from Jose while Naris and Bolita chuckle.

“Shortie, you winna eat?” Jose extends his black hands

And my brown hands accept, not knowing the consequences yet.