Chicano Poet

Friday, October 21, 2005

Henry’s Coplas On The Death Of Merton

There you are finally
on your peon vacation,
inertia of future Disney Bangkok wok,

naked as a jaybird,
using Dalai Lama soap,
Ghandi shampoo,

Jesus Christ shaving cream,
Martin Luther King’s dream,
everybody screaming for hot ice cream.

When you step out of the bathtub
you touch a badly grounded fan
and get electrocuted,

but why am I telling you this,
you already know the story
like the back of your hand.

Henry sees you fall like a ton of bricks,
a soldier for General Electric,
the Army plane brought your body back like crack.

But, all that enlightenment
wasn’t meant to be transferable, referable, inferable.
Let’s face it, sometimes God wasn’t meant to be.


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