Chicano Poet

Thursday, August 08, 2013

Zombie Abuela

His abuela rose from the grave
and scared the pants off the crummy town.

She crossed Geronimo Creek
and headed into town.

When she arrived home
her house had been demolished.

Half her sons were dead.
Her poet grandson fled.

It was a short trip
up memory lane.

Before the sun rose she was back
where she belonged.

But she had come to remind us
that it's not all about life.


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