Se Rentan Dos Cuartos
“Two rooms for rent,” I told Kohlman,
who stood in the grocery store entry
in what used to be our little town,
looking at the bulletin board
like a tourist seeking directions.
“But you’re not interested.”
are on this list my wife gave me,
and they’re probably from Mexico too.”
So was the Ford Explorer in the parking lot,
the gray one—Chihuahua plates.
Wiring harness probably made there too.
“It’s a global marketplace,” I said.
“No mineral rights either.”
“I liked the cashiers they brought in from Jamaica,
friendly, and fit enough for a bobsled team,” I said.
“Now they have Serbians
who talk like Boris Badenov,
just like your grandfather, I bet,
when he first came over.”
You could get by in German then.”
“Don’t forget the avocados.”
Mark Trechock lives in Dickinson, North Dakota, where he directed Dakota Resource Council, a rural community organizing project, from 1993 to 2012. He writes mostly about the Great Plains, Latin America and food. In 2016, his poems were published in Fracture: Essays, Poems and Stories on Fracking in America. His work has also recently appeared in Limestone, Canary, Off the Coast, El Portal, Badlands Literary Journal, Raven Chronicles, Wilderness House Literary Review, Kudzu House, Shark Reef and a number of other journals.