Chicano Poet

Thursday, October 22, 2015

What Might Have Been

She was a snowy ravine
hidden in Seguin

Connie Sepulveda
on the back porch

the gravel street
transports her cracked peach

the iron trees rust
and leave a bitter taste

Connie's eyes
like an out of place sea

damn the crazy Aztec sun
which keeps beating down

upon el ocho's furry head
making no sense


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