Oh! America - who are your gods?
Have you fashioned them and let them oppress you?
Do you not see the distance from the white collars to the blue?
Do you not hear the voices demanding total conformity?
Do you not feel pain anymore?
I see white collared men shackled by cash
a boy with a needle of muscle
your shoes kill dark children
the dark shadow of the swoosh
fear burning our pockets
and I see couch potatoes and french fries
a great river that no one can cross
the brown people toil in our fields
their paychecks with no social security numbers
and I see the bold lines on the map
a church frozen by comfort
an assembly satisfied by stasis
no votes for Jesus
I hear the native heart drumming across the tamed plains
the blood of Uriah cry out from the dirt
the trees wail as their brothers and sisters fall
I hear King Solomon order another Big Mac
the fire roaring in his trash mound
his songs blaring from all the white steeples
I feel like i will never get a job
like i will die alone in the gutter
and i feel sad for all the soldiers' families (even though they tell me not to)
the weight of the loans and debt of my life
and i feel no grace from anyone on this earth
no jubilee for the poor and needy
and i feel no pain, no imagination, no hope
no future, no alarms, and no surprises
do you?
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Grandpa learned a new word
Alex came back from a day on the farm.
He told me that grandpa learned a new word.
"He was messing with the sprayer
out by the berry patch. It wasn't working.
He called it a bitch."
Sorry to disappoint, Alex.
I'm guessing grandpa knew that word
long before we were born.
Maybe he heard his dad murmur it
under his breath during a calving.
Maybe he saw it on black-and-white TV shows.
Probably not.
Maybe he yelled it as he threw his
football helmet after losing
to a rival on homecoming.
Maybe he said it for the first time
when his prom date dumped him for
his best friend.
Or maybe he heard it from the
captain on that aircraft carrier during
the Korean War.
Sorry Alex, grandpa probably knew that word.
But be thankful that you don't know that word
because bitches are not fun to know.
He told me that grandpa learned a new word.
"He was messing with the sprayer
out by the berry patch. It wasn't working.
He called it a bitch."
Sorry to disappoint, Alex.
I'm guessing grandpa knew that word
long before we were born.
Maybe he heard his dad murmur it
under his breath during a calving.
Maybe he saw it on black-and-white TV shows.
Probably not.
Maybe he yelled it as he threw his
football helmet after losing
to a rival on homecoming.
Maybe he said it for the first time
when his prom date dumped him for
his best friend.
Or maybe he heard it from the
captain on that aircraft carrier during
the Korean War.
Sorry Alex, grandpa probably knew that word.
But be thankful that you don't know that word
because bitches are not fun to know.
El Rio Bravo/El Rio Grande
i decided to cross the river.
I wonder if Moses needed a visa
to get out of Egypt
and into the wilderness?
well, Moses wasn't
there to split the waters
this time. So i swam.
When i got to the other side
the pillar of fire said to me,
"follow me through the desert
and i will lead you to the promised land."
i wandered alone through painted deserts
and strawberry fields
and i slept under trees
and drank out of streams.
this, mi amigo, is true liberty.
When i reached Mt. Sinai, he told me
that soon i might be free.
I wonder if Moses needed a visa
to get out of Egypt
and into the wilderness?
well, Moses wasn't
there to split the waters
this time. So i swam.
When i got to the other side
the pillar of fire said to me,
"follow me through the desert
and i will lead you to the promised land."
i wandered alone through painted deserts
and strawberry fields
and i slept under trees
and drank out of streams.
this, mi amigo, is true liberty.
When i reached Mt. Sinai, he told me
that soon i might be free.
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