Chicano Poet

Thursday, May 22, 2008

The Father, Son And Holy Toast

Henry is old, old; for Henry remembers
Harry Belafonte in The World, The Flesh and The Devil,

as if it was yesterday, oh, I believe in yesterday.
However, not even Michael Rennie can save us now.

Turned-on by Patricia Neal’s sexy eyes
in the low light of the elevator, are ye?

Man can not be straightened out,
fix this guy, and that other idiot goes bad.

Then God looks yonder,
tens of thousands of Chinese die.

Or the moron sends the ocean inland
in search of high ground accidentally.

Henry has seen it all, yet waits for more---
in case that pretty, blonde co-ed edifies him.

Finally though, not even that seemed enough.
We be not flying squirrels, just nuts. He leapt


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