another new poem

POEM FOR YOUR THIRD BIRTHDAY

If there is one thing

I give you,

let it be red.

Let it be the red of cayenne

toasting in the pan

the moment before Abuelita

adds the rice, red

of Johnny Cash growling

Rusty Cage, red

of tacky vinyl

purses, scabbed knees,

Frank O'Hara

talking to the sun

at Fire Island.

Let it be the red

of incorrect calculus

solutions, red

teeth of stealing home

on a passed ball, red

of The Martyrdom of St. Ursula,

c-sections, whiskey-rage,

drunken lovemaking,

battered pickup truck

at the end of the street

turning left.