Spanish Lessons

 

 

His Spanish isn’t all that great, but

at least he is trying his best. 

His rolled Rs sit on his tongue, 

the words of our ancestors falling 

jagged on his teeth, cutting his lips. 

 

His brows are steady as the stream drips 

from his cheeks, the Mexicano blood 

drips down from the edge of his lips. 

He tries once more to roll that R,

But he sputters and chokes. 

 

He tries once more, pulling his skin

of his lips inward, sucking on the 

jagged mark. He attempts at the 

back of his throat, the gurgling noise 

of the flat R regurgitating behind his mouth.