hot chips and jesus

Had I never started teaching 10 year old Mexican children, I may

have never discovered the pure joy of "hot chips."

They are just what they sound like.

Chips:lays, fritos, dorritos, cheetos (crunchy or soft),

and a variety of no-name brands, covered in hot chili

type powders, dyes, flavorings and colors.

Once the chip so much as touches your tongue, 

your sinuses instantly clear up.

I use to just get them from the kids, every now and again,

but I have recently found myself purchasing them from the

corner store/restaurant, a regular hang out for older Mexican

men, and me. The paint in there is orange, and yellow , and brown

and it's dusty, and there are a lot of products that have been sitting

on the shelves since 2004 or maybe before that and there is a sexy

girl behind the counter, a different one everyday, who speaks to me

in spanish and i try to speak back and i wonder if she likes hot chips

or where she lives. or maybe i don't wonder those things at all but

they sound pretty when i write them so like a lot of writers i lie to 

make things sound prettier or stranger or more fucked up or just

longer then they really should. 

This is not profound at all.

It may have been more interesting to tell you that

toady, outside my classrooma door I made a cross for Lent.

The top of the cross is a photograph, at least 10,24 in,

of a baby. the edges are painted in purple, and i added

in a black cross of ashes on the white pristine forhead

of the child.

one left arm of the cross is a mug shot of a middle aged black

woman, recently homeless, a mirage of different colors 

framing my strategic placing of the head.

the middle of the piece is the most beautiful essay i have

read in at least 5 years written by the most beautiful person

 i have known for at least 5 years.

the right arm is a collage of individuals from varying

religious traditions. most of the pictures are painted over,

accept for one tiny Brazilian boy, eyes wide with curiosity.

the bottom of the cross is an abstract painting i did sometime

in September of a woman falling down, one finger at a time.

underneath the cross is a small black mug, with a piece of

tape across that reads "sin collection" in sharpie marker.

the Bishop is coming to our school tomorrow, so

I am thinking this little project of mine may get

our school excommunicated or something, because

collecting sins and painting over a statute of Jesus is

most likely sacrilegious.....or at least in bad taste.