Chicano Poet

Wednesday, July 28, 2010


Underneath the face of Mars
the caverns were deep and dark,

the structure shifted
and bits of red dust

fell from the ceilings
to enter Isidra’s lungs

through her dust mask.
The artificial atmosphere

would only do so much
down there.

She uncovered the replica
(or was it the original?)

of the Pyramid of the Sun.
Questions and anxiety

filled her scientific mind again.
Such possibilities,

such unfathomable things
spanked her naked mind

which was suddenly emptied
by someone’s voice echoing behind her.

She quickly covered
the replica.

It was Dolores,
and she appeared in pain.

Dolores hated descending
the countless stairs and ladders,

but she insisted on wearing
her high heeled shoes everywhere she went.

Isidra glared
at la pendeja.


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