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A Poem: My Inner Mexican 

My inner Mexican

Loves yard work.

The 20-horse growl of 8am,

the edger's obdurate cut.

Don't we all look alike

Pushing seed, laying turf,

Watching your daughters ready for class,

Ripping up your flowerbeds.

My inner Mexican

Loves a good fight.

Ruts in jalapeno juke joints,

Collects my Social Security,

Salsa and tejano

Heat the night.

Speaking of...

  • A poem by Mike Jurkovic.

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