Two six-year-olds ran over
and sat in the grass in front of us,
speaking in mumbled Spanish.
Where are you from,
what language are you speaking,
you’re Chilean, you’re not
And our attempted Spanish,
we came en avión, el mar,
de los Estados Unidos.
Their eyes widened.
They rushed away,
their stretchy pants sliding down,
showing their small butts
as they told their mamas who they met
and asked for dinero para un juguete.