Chicano Poet

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Slate Gravel Company

It’s not as if the towers
were made of pebbles,
and what of the neighbors?

BamBam crushed by 99 Tears
and the Mysterions.
Sunglasses wore sunglasses

and they still saw them crumble.
Fred’s foot-powered car
crushed to smithereens by the Arab Joneses.

“Wow! That ain’t good!”
said the fellow on TV
who speculated some more and spit.

But, ah, now Fred
don’t have to drive
that far to the gravel pit.


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