Chicano Poet

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Exile On A Martian Street

If you’re not a home run hitter
you bunt, thought Debbie

in the ancient terminology
her grandfather had taught her.

Normally only Mexicans
ended up here

on the outer solar system,
cast out by her race---

the white race,
which she was not

so fond of,
but accepted it

as a foregone conclusion.
So how had a white girl

become self-exiled?
She often wondered.

“Debbie, Debbie,”
Isidra had been trying

to get Debbie’s attention.
“Debbie, I’m going

to get a bite to eat,
do you want to join me?”

Out the portals,
the Martian winds

were blowing
red dirt around like snow.

Marvin was twittering,
wearing crazy goggles,

his green hands on the plunger
ready to blow up the Eoit.


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