la fiesta


clink lean, lime-choked beer bottles,
match mouths to the round, cold lips
and leave them panting, sweating
perfect circles onto the plastic tablecloth

make a toast to spanish laughter,
to the red-banded black fedora
and the singer wearing it, to salt
and pepper and paper napkins

kiss the evening on both cheeks,
lip-prints of chilies and heat, love
leftover from the day

clap after each song, every bite
of papusa and tortilla soft
and warm as an open mouth

let your voice off its leash,
pass your hands around and let everyone lick
the spice from your palms

then, drink again, this time to the lilacs
you'll twist from branches on the walk home,
the tune you'll shoo from your lips and
the chain link fence you'll drag your hand along