Chicano Poet

Friday, May 08, 2009

Fleurs du mal

The illness descended from the pyramids,
entered the brown, scarlet boy,

the bug, thinking itself a gift,
gave freely of itself, unselfishly,

and kept on battling to give,
and give it did,

jangling its wooden key in the metropolis,
chilangos came from far and wide,

even the narcotraficantes were blessed,
but by then the boy had recovered his poverty,

regained the values of his padres
which though prophetic, proved worthless.


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