Mr. Espada
Today I received a gift from you
     Second hand, or possibly I stole it
The judgement is entirely yours
I leave it to you as I explain

It came wrapped in plain
     brown, mailed not from you but
     a twice bought store
I apologize for not paying, but as of
     now I write for bread and whiskey
     and cannot afford such a luxury

It was your rebellious ode
Copyright 1990.....I was
     hooked on Alabanza and worked
     my way back just as you found
     Whitman

I knew my treasure had reached me,
     without  unwrapping or considering
     a mailing label
Thumbing through the pages with curiosity
     anticipating the thrill of the journey
     before me

There it read from your own pen
     Para Maria,
     Companera peruana
     aqui en esta tierra
     del norte-
     Martin Espada
     28 de Marzo de 1993
     Grand Forks

This treasure was no more mine
     than the peddler who swindled it
     from Maria's hands
How I wished it was mine and not hers
     to whom you willed your work to

Sitll I wonder....
     Donde esta Maria?
How did her treasure become mine?
Was she a slave to the gypsy's curse
     as i am-Forced into into pergatory as
     her gem collects dust like an
     unsuspected Pollock?

What unfortunate calamity could
     tear such a labor from her soul?
Nevertheless, whether or not presumed stolen
     it will now be my guide

I will study each word with the faithfulness
     of a devout disciple
Hoping only that you give me a means
     to bust out of pain's cocoon
To fly out of my claustrophobic bubble
     of hate
And emerge a beautiful Monarch
     with teeth

If you ever disapprove of my actions-
     make your decision teacher
I'm easy to find.....

H.B.