Chicano Poet

Monday, August 30, 2010


Mexico City looked ridiculous,
inhabited as it was

by the white people
repatriated from Arizona.

Every damn Mexican had been
exiled to the moon,

and then on to Mars.
Well, not every Mexican---

the Native Mexican Indians
had been considered

not worth the trouble
so they were just given

a “vaccine” which immediately
put them out their misery.

Back on Mars,
every contingency

had been addressed.
No one in the lab

knew if the Martian
would stay underground

or come knocking
on the impenetrable door.

A door made on Ganymede
of unobtainium

which had somehow been obtained
by the stubborn, sweaty cojones

of the men
and women miners

with the loss
of many space-suited vidas locas.


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