The Sector Commander's Daughter

The communist sector commander is a fierce
aficionado of Western designs.
We wade ashore with cartons of iPhones
Marlboros, Air Jordans, Calvin Kleins.

Breathtaking days along camouflaged trails
on confiscated bullocks;
the fabled guerrilla headquarters
ringed with barbed wire and lilacs.

The cadre of the sector command,
boys and girls with pink complexions,
surround the foreign satisfactions
asking ingenuous questions.

In this stanza the sector commander's
daughter Esperanza is flatly denied
an Eiffel Tower paperweight
and a 12-pack Pepsi Lite.

The fighters in designer jeans
salute the red flag gaily flapping, 
singing, Arise ye prisoners of starvation,
while we approve them clapping.

Now it is time to say goodbye.
Little Esperanza clutching lilacs to her little breast,
"Take me, take me with you,
take me with you to the West.”