Chicano Poet

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Star Field

When abuela came out from behind the glass bushes
she was running her cane up in the air

knocking away the falling stars which had begun to rain down
we were hurriedly pulling up the top of the Caddie

at the same time we were yelling
pronto abuela pronto

grandma was hauling ass
as much as a crippled old grandma can haul ass

the mountain wings we were heading for
appeared to get closer hour by hour

but the next framed minute
they appeared minuscule and axe-like misty

while we complained abuela kept saying
there’s nothing wrong with this planet that a little cilantro won’t cure

the stars finally stopped falling
and the salty moons rose like yellow seeds


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