Cock Sauce
We call it that and drizzle it on
the deep
fried freezer enchiladas, liberally.
This is poor, he howls and cackles,
making a corporation of the meat
in a plastic bowl.
Its given name rings insect-like,
it crawls up the floral wallpaper
and spreads wings. You, brother,
can’t pronounce it. For you,
it’s cock sauce.
With rice beer and water we eat
the enchilada under a forty watt
bulb while the real roaches scale
the brick façade, feeling for some lost
familiar. My mom, in her wellworn apron,
fried freezer enchiladas, liberally.
This is poor, he howls and cackles,
making a corporation of the meat
in a plastic bowl.
Its given name rings insect-like,
it crawls up the floral wallpaper
and spreads wings. You, brother,
can’t pronounce it. For you,
it’s cock sauce.
With rice beer and water we eat
the enchilada under a forty watt
bulb while the real roaches scale
the brick façade, feeling for some lost
familiar. My mom, in her wellworn apron,
Would say these should not mix—the Thai
and the Mexican (I’ve not said anything
about the non-syruped wafflettes) they
are kissing cousins. Well, Ma,
where do we live?
and the Mexican (I’ve not said anything
about the non-syruped wafflettes) they
are kissing cousins. Well, Ma,
where do we live?
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