Chicano Poet

Friday, October 22, 2004

Dubya Paints Guernica

This is Dubya’s
The airplanes

dropping their bombs
on the innocent.
The body parts

flying in
the four directions.
Men, women, children.

The child
has no head.
The woman

has no breasts or chin.
This man has
no limbs whatsoever.

But at least

desert country
of theirs
will be a democracy.


At 12:23 AM, Blogger chris said...

Reyes, Hi--

Hoping all's going well there for you. This poem?--like many of your poems, it speaks volumes--wheels & storms, gasoline, oil, wind, tears, blankets & bones, waves of ideas in bloodiness--it speaks volumes, as they say (I always wondered who 'they' was in that little clip of conventional phrasing...).

Thanks for all your poems, and this poem I find so full today.

Best Wishes,
chris murray


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