Chicano Poet

Monday, November 04, 2013

Derelict Alamo

I polish your blonde hair
to step upon the cliff
whose ships are leaving
and the breaking boots
trigger and stall
the natives of my windswept love for you
gulping and restless.

I'm a thick forest with no trees
sky with no sky
your mouth surrenders
like the Alamo defenders should have done.
I wish we were all cowards.


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