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Veracruz

In veracruz, City of breezes & sailors & loud birds,
an old man, I walked the Melacon by the sea

and i thought of my father, who when a young man
had walked the Melacon in havana, dreaming of brasil,

and i wished he had gone to brazil
& learned magic

and i wished my father had come back to san francisco
armed with brazilian magic, & that he had married
not my mother, but her brother, whom he truly loved

i wish my father had, like tiresias, changed himself into woman,
& that he had been impregnated by my uncle, & give birth to me as a girl

i wish that i had grow up in san fransisco as a girl,
a tall, serious girl,

& eventually i had come to veracruz
& walking on melacon, i had met a sailor,
a mexican sailor or a sailor from some other country
maybe brazillian sailor
& that he had married me, & i had become pregnant
by him

So that i could give birth at last to my son- the boy
I love