Chino Rots Inside

Shit, they may as well have started holding hands

And making paper dolls together, the way they carried on

Back in the neighborhood after push came to shove,

Like none of it ever happened—all the times they spit on us,

The constant “spic” and “wetback” and “goya”, the ass-kickings.

Peace didn’t last; hell, it couldn’t—it’s just the way things have to be, man.

If I ever got in front of some parole board

(Not that I’ll ever have that chance; I ain’t goin’ anywhere

Unless they send me to Auburn or Attica for some change of pace)

This is what I’d tell ‘em:

You come home to your nice house in your tidy little sub-development

After a day at Corning or IBM, and you find out that some punk

Has screwed your daughter and stuck a shiv into her quarterback boyfriend,

What are you gonna do if you find his ass

Hiding in one of your neighbor’s rosebushes? Exactly.

Save the taxpayers the expense of a trial.

 

Musta been a year, maybe eighteen months ago,

This bunch of goody-goody types, all social workers and sweet boys

Show up here to put on some fucking stage play

Where this guy’s uncle kills hid dad and starts puttin’ the blocks to his mom,

Then for hours on end it’s nothing but yak, yak, yak

And I’m thinking Man, could you just ice the guy, already.

Let me tell you, I’ve never seen ‘Nardo’s ghost, let alone that fuckin’ Polack’s,

But if he ever shows, it ain’t gonna be to accuse me of nothin’.

No, he’ll smile and shake my hand, because I did

What the code says you gotta do. 

Just what the code says.

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5 thoughts on “Chino Rots Inside

  1. I want more, and after reading this I’m stuck with a gaping hole of an urge to find out where you get your material. The language of this makes the point just a little bit too obviously, but it’s tight and fast.

  2. yeah i really think that’s exactly how a modern-day Chino would go… and ‘Nardo’s ghost ain’t showing up to lend any kind of hand, either. this is so easy to relate to, well done!

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