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Summer Nights
by Jose Lepe

Between the grams we broke down 

into paper, empty bottles sitting on a table 

our stomachs, hearts, livers filled with fire

It’s a perfect combination for a night out 

at a backyard party with carne asada and cumbia playing 

someone’s tio and tia swaying and stomping 

wild children fueled on candy and Coca-Cola

chasing a lone chihuahua.

Everybody has their vice.

The lights are interrupted by 

the smoke that billows across the moon 

which doesn’t seem to mind that 

we all gathered tonight to watch each other instead.

Knowing that the sun is creeping up 

like the shots of tequila that we sank

trying to show the viejitos that we can drink like they did 

when they were our age.

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