El Tin Tan bar
at Mission and 16th
gringos not wanted
in San Francisco’s Mission District.

Mariachi music spills into the street
an old lady with holes in her shoes
dances wildly on the sidewalk
affordable entertainment for all.

a Mexican father
with a tattoo on his neck
that says “Chocolate”
and a gold crucifix
bigger than the Pope’s
sits at the bar with his little boy
who is playing with a musical slot machine.

a drunk moves close enough to the boy
to rub his penis against the boy’s back
just as his friend
who is no older than thirty
grabs my bar stool and says:
“ I’m an old man. Let me sit here.”

I have a sick feeling in my stomach.
“ No problem. But tell your friend
to get away from the boy
or I will turn his prick into a pinata.”

the bartender throws me out
before I start
any more trouble with his regulars
I don’t leave a tip.