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	<title>Zócalo Public SquareThe Marine &#8211; Zócalo Public Square</title>
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	<link>https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org</link>
	<description>Ideas Journalism With a Head and a Heart</description>
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		<title>The Marine</title>
		<link>https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org/2019/05/10/the-marine/chronicles/poetry/</link>
		<comments>https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org/2019/05/10/the-marine/chronicles/poetry/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 10 May 2019 07:01:42 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>by Rogelio Juarez</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Friday Poem]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Marathon runners]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org/?p=102019</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[<p>Sundays my father made us chorizo<br /> we still begged to skip church<br /> four bad kids in line for communion,<br /> recanting silence<br /> seeing the backs of our neighbors, the lint on their shoulders<br /> we walked down the pews like seasons and years One spring morning<br /> instead of mass<br /> my father ran the city’s 10k<br /> we’ve lost his boxes of medals<br /> the paper from 1982 of his smile, those perfect big teeth<br /> you could see his sweat<br /> this beautiful mexican racing against the sheriff department<br /> and the mayor’s court of farmers, miners, the son of a senator<br /> they all lost to a magnificent bastard.</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org/2019/05/10/the-marine/chronicles/poetry/">The Marine</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org">Zócalo Public Square</a>.</p>
]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Sundays my father made us chorizo<br />
<span style="display: inline-block; width: 58px"></span>we still begged to skip church<br />
four bad kids in line for communion,<br />
<span style="display: inline-block; width: 58px"></span>recanting silence<br />
seeing the backs of our neighbors, the lint on their shoulders<br />
we walked down the pews like seasons and years</p>
<p>One spring morning<br />
instead of mass<br />
my father ran the city’s 10k<br />
we’ve lost his boxes of medals<br />
<span style="display: inline-block; width: 58px"></span>the paper from 1982 of his smile, those perfect big teeth<br />
you could see his sweat<br />
<span style="display: inline-block; width: 58px"></span>this beautiful mexican racing against the sheriff department<br />
and the mayor’s court of farmers, miners, the son of a senator<br />
they all lost to a magnificent bastard.</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org/2019/05/10/the-marine/chronicles/poetry/">The Marine</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org">Zócalo Public Square</a>.</p>
]]></content:encoded>
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