In Colorado My Father Scoured and Stacked Dishes by Eduardo C. Corral Lyrics

In a Tex-Mex restaurant. His coworkers,
unable to utter his name, renamed him Jalapeno.

If I ask for a goldfish, he spits a glob of phlegm
into a jar of water. The silver letters

on his black belt spell Sangron. once, borracho,
at dinner, he said: Jesus wasn't a snowman.

Arriba Durango, Arriba Orizaba. Packed
into a car trunk, he was smuggled into the States.

[...]

Oddly fragrant: wood smoke, lilac. He's an illegal.
I'm an Illegal-American.