Uncle Mexican
Cynthia Zhang
(Written December 17, 2012)

Uncle Mexican

 

A penny, a dime, a buck.

One table, two tables, one restaurant.

Each step earned a foothold

With sweat

In a cutting throat business

Of Mexican cuisine.

 

A single customer, a pair, a family.

They came and were served

With a caveat:

Uncle Mexican might not be able

To count the stars in the sky.

But he bowed to his customers:

His providing parents of substance.

 

Swirling perfume and fragrance around

Could not fan off his odor.

Easy laughter and learned sincerity

Could not soften his lined face,

Stooped torso,

And his clutching hands

Of nine beer glasses.

 

An authoritative figure,

Completely out of place,

Uncle Mexican

Connected to his world

With loose low cut jeans for youth

And his growth in

A mythical heritage.