A Cloud Over Mexico's Image

A Cloud Over Mexico's Image

There is this cloud over Mexico’s
Image. There is Frank here, sitting
With his arms crossed on his chest.
There is Frank here designing a boat
And pencil picked up from a draft
Supply store. There is Frank sitting
In Europe. There is Ralph here sitting
With a tea kettle on the ground.
There is John Q talking to his chattel.

There is this cloud over Mexico’s
Image. The cloud was not always
There, or, maybe it was a landmark.
Frank was not always here. I think
He was in the waterbed all along.
Ralph picked fights, and drank, and
He wrote that song. John Q talked
And had 40 children who all died
Before he could explain the cloud to them.

This cloud over Mexico, how do you
Say? I think you ruined my life, or by
Extension you ruined everyone’s lives.
You ruined this poem, anyway.
There is no legacy, but there is Nyquil.
I think there used to be a gun, and I know
There were four boys, but now there is
Only one, and there’s a girl.

There used to be this cloud over Mexico.
Now it is a small shoe, and that tiny stuffed
Raccoon. That is all that is left of Mexico.
Grandparents don’t exist anymore, or they do.
They sing happy birthday and the marine core
Hymn, and that’s nice. They don’t sing to
Mexico anymore, though. And I still sing happy
Birthday, and parts of the marine core hymn,
But only in the car, and never in restaurants.