Chicano Poet

Friday, July 06, 2007

I Tol’ You

I told you it would happen, and it has.
The dolts made off with it,
locked it up in their evidence room.

Certainly, it is not made of gold
where it would uncoin itself,
dig its way back into a mountain

and the mountain shut its doors.
But, hey, anything is possible.
I lay awake at night,

weighed pros and cons, imagined this,
imagined that, ruled that out, ruled this in,
had my doubts about scenarios.

Hell, I even fingerprinted myself
just to remove my own suspicions.
But, no, I’m ok, I even passed the lie detector test.

Big old tears poured from the machine
as I described your smile.
Each lip so different from the world.

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