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@@@@@Later you will be smartYou will learn to play a woman like a guitar

Julio makes love when he is fifteenThere is a little girl on the earth-pressed street who wears no bloomersYsabel Flores, dirty little girlAll the boys she makes love to
Julio, you are sweet sweet sweet
Under the tree behind the empty house in the darkJulio, like the dogs, okay?
He feels the sweet sick nausea(Protestant girls like me, I will make much money Ysabel, when I am big I buy you many dresses
Her wet velveted body relaxesShe lies down on her spread-out dress, her premature breasts lolling in the summer heatWhat color will they be?

Julio Martinez is big boy now, big financier; he works in a hashhouseThe foul rich barbecue smell, the garlic molten in the hot dogs on the griddleJoe and Nemo, Harry and Dick, White TowerGrease on a sizzling plate and the crumblings, the rancid fat, all to be scraped with the spatulaMartinez wears a white jacket
Texans can be impatientHey, you boy, hurry up that chili
Prostitutes look through him
The cars flare by in the electric night, his feet ache on the concrete floor(I will make much money
But there are no jobs with much moneyWhat can a Mexican boy do in San Antone? He can be counterman in hashhouse; he can be bellhop; he can pick cotton in season; he can start store; but he cannot be a doctor, a lawyer, big merchant, chief