To the Large Old Man in the Button-Up Trump Shirt on the 4th of July

The posters said fireworks at 9:30, after the band.

You slipped in at dusk, to the center of the crowd—

TRUMP in full caps sans serif vertical font climbing

your right torso, front and back, huge blue stars

bedazzling your left side, where a heart beats.

What were you thinking when the night went

off-schedule and the Santana cover band, Santa Rios,

jammed on, overlapping fireworks, its sonic encore

of Latin-rock-n-roll-Afro-Cuban-jazz joy moving our feet,

churning hips, shaking out tight shoulders and necks,

opening our chests, smiling us—mostly white folks

and more proudly groping at Spanish, “Oye cómo va /

Mi ritmo /Bueno pa’ gozar, Mulata.” Listen to how it goes,

my rhythm! Come and enjoy it, you beautiful human fusion.

But you just sat there, parked on amphitheater bench,

hands on your thighs, feet planted, spine stiff,

shoulders rigid, stoic—some kind of anti-Buddha

immune to your community dancing around you,

celebrating independence, interdependence,

honoring the gifts of Carlos Santana, brilliant

Mexican immigrant whose musical descendants

ended the evening smoothly crooning,

“You’ve got to change your evil ways, baby”

Did you notice it tap, your toe, did you feel

your simple cells—mutinous—trying to move you?

Enjoy this article on Santana adopting Puente’s “Oye Como Va.”

Also, here is another article that examines the lyrics and term, “Mulata,” in the original and evolving cultural context of this song.