Chicano Poet

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Hurricane

The wind was rain not wind
loud like the out of control rock and roll
of gulag locomotives

heading into the Siberian delirium
exterminating the whole lot
flooding the city with outcasts,

leaving the roofs aloof,
the city officials goofed.
Ah, a second Venice!

The disaster took place after the storm,
the Third World country was us
so we took the bus,

those of us who could,
the other ones would,
all of us should.

The wind was rain not wind
loud like the out of control rock and roll
of Katrina And The Waves.

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