Chicano Poet

Thursday, September 21, 2006

The Road Even Less Traveled

I mistook a tree for you,
the limbs for your arms and legs,
the leaves your golden hair.

I killed the lumberjack
to stop him from chopping you down.
I bombed the corporate offices

of the lumber company.
Some suits and secretaries died.
The fire department put out the fire.

The cops were swarming like bees,
the TV station rushed its satellite truck
to the scene.

The pretty reporter kept pushing
her hair away from her face.
I thought to myself

shave your head, Sinead.
I mistook a tree for you
and now I’m the killer Robert Frost.


At 6:54 AM, Blogger Alice said...

Thanks for stopping by my site.

You know what I'm loving about your poetry? I love how you write to "you" in so many of your poems. I like to do that as well, although I'm chicken to post some of them because I don't want the "you" to recognize him/her self.


At 7:06 PM, Blogger RC said...

Thanks,Alice.And,you know,I had not realized I was using "you" that much.Don't know if it's good or bad.


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