Mr. Bones , if you write one of your stupid poems
don’t use my name!

But, Henry, everybody knows you’re the writer
in this triumvirate.

There’s no need to blaspheme down the stations
of the breath of this poor Chicano wannabe poet
who has lovingly given us a roof over our heads.

Henry, Henry, Henry, before we came into his life
he was a nobody.

The two continued their con(verse)ation ad infinitum
into the nightum.


Mr. Ed’s Incarnation Of Intarnation

Henry can always tell
when a brown poet
has studied under Philip Levine

because he will write
Levine poems
but occasionally throw in

a Spanish word or two.
The poems will not
take up too much room

in the heart or the mind.
The poems will not
better humankind

or make humankind worse.
The poems will have
no effect at all on brown

and Levine will
keep on teaching
what he teaches.

It’s not a crime of course
but neither
is a horse.