Chicano Poet

Tuesday, August 19, 2008


There’s a kind of hush when
they pull you from the cross.
I guess they showed you who’s boss!

Sleepy Jean caresses you
and tells you it will be okay.
What else is she supposed to say?

Oh, them Romans are such kidders
when they get angry
and drink too much brandy.

They feed you to the lions
and let the elephants trample
you from head to ankle.

There’s no milk in town tonight,
they wrap you in shroud
and give you to the crowd.


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