Type O Negative

america

32 america the reek & noise of quiapo dulce my yaya pinches the buttery soft of my arm señor don little rich señorito our little talcum powdered prince your mama spoils you feeds you too much prize piglet tailored clothes & shiny white shoes why you’re her her little girl her fat little hija your papa so handsome you look nothing like him round & brown like her dulce laughs & pushes me through the crowd of hawkers stands of corrugated tin & splintered wood rotting fish chops of meat yellow fat in heaps anemic vegetables toothless widows blood stained aprons & the air curdling around their screeches preskong bangus mangga kang kong preskong bangus mangga kang kong ahead a bundle of sailorsyellow hair pink scalps amerikanos coming our way dulce sighs 33 & twists my ear stop she orders stand still tahimik don’t say a word more whistles blue & green & orange eyes like fireflies aglow around her breasts the peasant catholic folds of her skirt white shirts sweaty damp curls fringing the collar furred arms white polyester pants tight stretch over bulge swing & shift with each step her thin lipped smile so inviting dulce’s yeasty meaty smell longganisa & san miguel beer one day i will live in the states dulce says softly between clenched teeth far from the stink of manila the mosquitoes & heat & coconuts my children will be tall with good noses hindi pango far from you & your fat graceless mother it will be max factor & snow & snickers & milky ways & kisses the amerikano in the lead hairy face & freckles clicks his heel stands to attention & salutes her swallowed by the sailor’s shadow dulce looks up into the soldiers eyes behind the twinkle she sees the commissary orderly rows endless & bountiful deluxe radios & carne norte thick white socks & towels sheer hose the soldier’s buddies laugh & pat his back shoving him closer to dulce who is giggling nervously covering 34 her mouth with one fishy hand sweet laughter & flirty giggles peeling off the flakes of paint from the produce carts my small hand reaches for america between the sailor’s legs dulce screams the laughing stops frozen man held breath & bulging eyes his tender sex in my grasp i rub my cheek dreamily against the scratchy synthetic white bulge & savor the perfume of manila bay & apple orchards i press my face deeper in bury myself deep into the sailor’s body to know everything he knows to see the world through green-blue-orange eyes dulce’s blow to the side of my head sends me flying my head hits the muddy street small sweet melon bouncing i drift into darkness muddy water seeps into my mouth the air is sweet with dulce’s sniveling i am berry berry sorry oppicer sir. please sir sorry i am berry berry sorry sir. ...