Chicano Poet

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

Luke Skywalker

Stuck in this
desert country,

my buddies die
beside me daily,
torn apart

by roadside bombs.
Grenades climb
into the frontseat

with you.
The desert becomes
your uniform,

you see a world
in grain of
dirty sand,

and the grain of sand
looms larger
and larger

until it obscures
the sky
like a sand storm

on Tatooine.
The Death Star circles earth
manned by Emperor Dubya.


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