Cisneros.
Kane shared one of her poems with me today. I love that I can be in the midst of menial, everyday tasks and Boom! poetry is in my hands and it moves me and I swim in the words and I want to reread it.

Sandra Cisneros is also quite real.

Kane's assignment was to use her piece as a model to write a similar poem of his own history, interests, qualities. In his typical teenage reaction, he asked me to google it since he didn't feel like digging it out of his backpack again. The poem is You Bring Out the Mexican in Me.
Anyway, here's my inspired poem:

You bring out the yat in me.
When the bile in my gut brews
and words from my mouth spew
The yat in me can he heard
No g for my -ing endin'
I hear Kimberle curse Louie
and David's pretendin'
You bring out the yat in me
Now that I'm here, awol, overboard
Slashed the umbilical cord
You bring out the yat in me
When we eat at a franchise or
the same ol' chinese buffet,
I want fried oysters, boiled crabs,
shrimp po-boys and etouffee
You bring out the yat in
this suburban straight-lace
Dancing at the screen door
Look into her tired face
A dancer no more
You bring it out of me
The yat in me
right below the surface, 

seeping through each pore
My city, not just location, not just lore
It's in me! It's alive
Oft I wish to abort it, but it's mine.
Life would be easier without the yat in me.
There's labor in living with memory.

Painting by Pablo Picasso