Chicano Poet

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

The Aftermath of Pythagorean Math

Picking ourselves up
from the side of the lighthouse,
the old Greek stood by

aghast from head to toe,
his Achilles heel almost healed
after all the centuries of mending.

Sure, hemlock can kill a man,
but it can also kill a nation---
witness that crew that offered us towels for a nickel.

Cecania, your smile, though blessing me
with just rewards
after the horror of the war,

was not enough, yes, not quite enough.
We parted ways inland
and thirty-five years later

I returned to the same sea.
Only the lighthouse remains,
the lighthouse keeper replaced by automation.


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