Chicano Poet

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

Henry And Bones Stroll With Borges

You have to be born
to walk about the earth
feet planted, heart prepared

to take the good
with the bad,
mostly bad thought Henry

as the subway clattered
and swayed underneath
the streets of New York.

The rivers East and Hudson
gurgled on each side
like snakes

having swallowed something,
please, Henry pleaded, please
let it be mankind,

but, of course, once
he came out of the

there he was---man.
Man in all
his gory,

black man, yellow man, brown man,
white man, why buy
the ant farm, here it is.

But, Henry, was happy
to be back home,
his gangster fedora tucked

slightly sideways
on his head.
His hair starting to thin,

he was going to call
on Mistress Bradstreet,
he imagined her thighs in his mind.

Mr. Bones dropped the
jig-saw puzzle of his step
and Henry sighed,

not even mad at Mr. Bones
for having brought him back
from his imagined bliss.


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