MOLESTED IN MODESTO
First of all, it's a poem about racism, not a racist poem, and I'm not actually calling anyone a racist.
A couple of weeks after returning to Charlotte from a trip to visit Chris and Kim in California, Chris sent me an e-mail whining about how tough his life was. (In all fairness, he was having a hell of a time.) He signed it "Molested in Modesto." (Gag signatures are a matter of deep tradition between the two of us.) Well, I was INSPIRED!
One of the things that struck me while in California is the very uneasy blending of cultures, and the tendency of Anglo and Mexican (not to mention the more ancient Spanish and Native) cultures to intermix without completely becoming diffused with each other. It's like a tug of war: everybody's muddy, but damned if they'll get pulled across the line. It's very weird, and rather ugly and very beautiful all at the same time.
So that's what it's about. I'm not calling anybody a racist, and I'm not saying Mexican people are bad, and I'm not saying we should do anything radical about anything in particular. I'm saying I love refritos. Yeah, that's it! The whole poem is about beans! Anything else anyone says is a lie!