Before Ivy Queen reigned as reggaeton royalty / Figueroa and Century was hot / with war bringing punta / and Central Americans / who wound their waists / to West Indian soca / That night the Queen shared a small stage / with her embarrassing he-him-his / at Prince Hall / as beer flowed and cocaine cowered / enough for her him to be an embarrassment / and I stood by my own embarrassments / but in 1990’s L.A. scant mattered / besides the rolling rumble of Garifuna drums / and the cramped parking lot / of a closed market / memorial ground / unbeknownst to us / for Latasha Harlins / that we stumbled towards / tired / at the end of the concert
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