Chicano Poet

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Grand Piano

Robinson was not you and I,
certainly no more Chicano
than Henry or Mr. Bones,

you can’t take the porchlight
and replace it with a star
whose planets circle dead.

There is no constellation in Omaha
whose tail drags Lincoln snow
out of town.

The chair knows Robinson by name.
Who knew furniture would envy
a dog wagging its tail?

Robinson read the paper
and thought that Russia sucked,
he would not be fooled

by the pretty fences they had built.
Drop a grand piano on somebody’s head,
death is not cacophony.


At 1:11 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

You remind me of the tv show MASH,the damn show lasted longer than the Korean War itself.Kees only wrote four Robinson poems and you've already written at least five...curiously Kees never grasped the genius of the Robinson poems,it was his ticket to being a major poet but he dropped the ball!That's the tragedy as I see it.

At 11:42 AM, Anonymous Mr. Bones said...

Hey,Weldon,welcome back from Mexico!Actually,for the foreseeable future Henry will only be posting Robinson poems.


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