Crazy Vato.
            Six-foot, white skin, blue-eyed Fem
                        slinging his boken.
            Only thing stopping a Blood or Cript in his tracks
                        is that righteous black beret.

Crazy Vato.
            Reading 500 words per minute
            while I'm still stuck on the first page.
                        What do you mean -
                                    Tucson's not a cow-town
                                    unless you define the cows as tourists?
            Wish I had a whiplash tongue.

Crazy Vato.
            Creamy skin, long slender extremities
            Hips that rotate to guitars
                                                not drums
            Restricted only by bodies
                                                            and walls
            His dance demands a stage
                        his heart an audience.

Crazy Vato.
            Wants a black gerbil -	fuck a cage
                                   we gotta house.
            You wanna make milk carton airplanes
            with GI Joes parachuting out
            rescuing Barbie from the burning doll house
                        in the hallway?
                                                God I'm in love!

Crazy Vato.
            Yeah the world is fucked
                        and children are dying.
            They wouldn't know an offering
                        or an answer
                                    if it came with credit card approval.

Crazy Vato.
            What do you mean
                       --baggy pants--
            you're a vato?
                                   	--skinny undershirt--
            You have
                                                     --black trenchcoat--
            fushia hair and
                         --blue bandanna--
            freckles  ?
                             	--cool shades--            --haughty smile--

                  "you know         mannn...--            -Vaato."

Sprinkles of laughter
      other children fly by
smiles frozen in painted time.

Parents relinquishing restraints
      in a haven of painted booths
            displaying boisterous puppets
and dissolving cotton candy.


The twirling movement
                  of the statued carousel
                                         draws me to its perimeter.
Creatures in motionless movement
                              expressing the tempo of boxed music.
Animals with tall legs
                              and shapely cropped wooden manes
captured for their artistic shades.


My eyes search each one
                                          for a beckoning sign
of kicking and bounding life.
                              The one in the middle swings by
pressed for the galloping run.
                                          His clean sifted dusky mane
stands back from his violet blue eyes
                                    his gently firmed body ready to ride.


I press my hands cautiously
                                          on his creamy glazed hind
and lift my body
                                    now fashioned in velvet hide.
I raise and roll myself
                  onto his custom made saddle
                                    clinging to the back of his neck
feeling the dew air rush by.


I open my eyes
      with comforting vision
                              to see him rising
from my abdomen lagoon.
                               His sighing awe
captures my life stream breath
                                    and I lose my mind
to the continual circular stride.