Maricela Ramirez – The Construction Years

Maricela Ramirez

The Construction Years

A grandfather with mountain hands gets an ear stuck in the 1920s.  This just in:
The world is an apartment building.  A girl with cilantro hair wears a hard hat
to the dinner table. She’s trucks and toughness.

                                                                        In efforts to introduce the word risk
in 1979, she wears a suit.  A little gold cradles the lobe.  In no time, the Banana Boat
is christened; the pale Impala prances about town.  It is disco canary.  It is going places.

En el año 80, el adoctrinamiento comienza.  Miss Nakatani becomes Igashi.  Ants crawl
on the bŭt′ ər and then on the wô’tər-mě1′ən.

                                                                        In 1987, her maiden name, Muela,
translates to Molar; it’s kept moist with murmurs under the tongue.  A joke makes the
grandmother sprout oatmeal.  She is cinnamon, sugar and cold cream.  Crackers the purse.

1990 starts, there was a story about a bar and ends in anecdote as all things musk.
Newsflash: Scholarship replaces a boat.  A need for fix, anchor, weight.  A residue
of oil.  A soap box is emptied.

                                                  Irony invests, settles, sinks, ©2004.  Everyone sings
about the elephant.  No one notices the mold.  A nervous tic and paper bombs
blossom.  All hail, a microscope for your monocle.  Stay tuned: Armor is caustic.

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