Wild watermelons on Camp Pendleton.
Was on a run in the hills when I saw them.

I saw them sitting on the side of a hill.
I wanted one to take home with me.

I didn’t take a watermelon with me.
On the off chance that someone made a joke.

A joke about a mexican picking fruit.
My grandfather used to pick watermelon.

My grandfather also did other great things.
Worked hard to make sure I wouldn’t have to pick fruit.

Worked hard so that I wouldn’t be ashamed.
Of being Mexican in a white man’s world.

So a Mexican in this white world turned back.
And picked that wild watermelon off the ground.

J. Villanueva is a Chicano writer/poet from deep south Texas. When he is not agonizing in front of his computer, he is building and riding his motorcycles. Currently, J. has work(s) featured or forthcoming on Alebrijes Review, Paddler Press, GenControlZ, and Sienna Solstice. He is currently an MFA student at the University of Texas-Rio Grande Valley. You can follow him on Twitter @Jay_theaztec. 

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