Chicano Poet

Monday, February 25, 2008

Katrina And The Waves

Henry took his finger
out of the hole in the levee
and watched the brown town drown.

The ones that could swim swum,
the ones that could sink sunk,
the ones that could bloat bloated.

The government stood by,
twiddled its opposing thumbs,
tapped its feet, chewed bubble gum.

The men in suits
made sure their ties weren’t twisted,
combed their hair, glanced at each other,

and to this very day
the brown town is still around,
a shadow of its former self.

Happy Birthday to my brother Val.


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