Chicano Poet

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Evolution Of Fourth Street

Never could get it right.
The edges of it, always present,
like a wall keeping out

emotions of the stellar.
Unknown Mexicans made off with the sidewalks,
you could follow the black soil

throughout the barrio.
You stood on top of the 1951 Ford
scouting in anger and then love.

Never could get it right until now---
this surprises both of us.
The new owners tore down grandma’s house.

It is a blessing we can not forgive,
accept or deny.
Obviously, even God has descended from the apes.


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