1.

Expatronizing
I don’t have to compete with any of you 

Because I have removed myself.

Your brands, trends, Land's Ends, 
Cannot hope to trump my duds, woven by

Indigenous women who gossip in a language 

In which colors are verbs.

As you eat your Greek yogurt and drink your 

Shade-grown Guatemalan coffee bought at Starbucks,

I sip coffee that has been pooped out 

By a civet, and eat quesadillas made with cheese

Prepared by Benedictine nuns who wake up

At 4 to milk Trinity, the three-legged cow, 

Before the Office of Vigils. 

In your Hybrid you listen to Buena Vista Social Club

And pride yourself on how international 

and naughty you are (they're Cuban!), 

But I take a bus with no glass in the windows to work,

Accompanied by chickens and stoic children

And a live trio of drunk octogenarians who croon

"Hemingway delira" while miraculously maintaining 

Their balance as the bus dodges potholes, dogs and fallen palm fronds.