Chicano Poet

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

Brave New Chante

The crippled ship
arrived at Mars

todo catiado,
the worst for wear,

as if Michael Jackson
had Beat It.

The twelve volunteers
beamed down

in groups of two.
The transporter

estaba fregado, broken.
The ticker tape tardeada

took place in the lab,
no towering skyscrapers,

just hopes
and dreams for the future.

Over the next
year or two,

news tickled in slowly
as the last

of the Google Robotic Reporters
either were destroyed

by the Martian
or succumbed

to mechanical problems.
The Mexicans

were again
strangers in a strangeland,

alone in the universe…
For now.


At 10:27 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I like the ending. I have been reading your galactic poems and I like all of them.



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