Chicano Poet

Friday, August 19, 2011


I feel like renaming the dog today. He has not started a revolution.

-----Poeta Power on Facebook

After abuela managed to calm down our brother
actually slapped him a few times until he snapped out of it

the happy-go-lucky creature just wanted directions
the touchscreen on my Cesar Chavez universal phone

was broken so I was careful not to break it even more
space travel is not kind to inundated

communications devices this far out from
our murderous civilization as we know it

once we got the myriad creature
on her merry way we gassed it again

tenants in a strange world
we wanted to get to the mountain wings

for refuge and forsaking
the supplemental gates were supposed to be generic

yet clinically special to our mission
the Cadillac skin suddenly develops

red goosepimples as it sensed danger
abuela’s toxic smile made us nervous

as smile upon smile is wont to do
she clutched her broken ray gun

the live machete mumbling
a makeshift derision

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Voice Box

Her larynx hands had us stumped and staggered
the creature had stepped in front of our Cadillac

and stopped us cold even though we were
travelling at two hundred miles a millisecond

the top down once again
the radiator gulping and scrambling

abuela’s half-open robe
melting in the jagged wind

which carried rubble into shrubs
each ration of fog in a column

the creature looked at us
her musculature in a puddle

the flames of her fingernails
pointed at something

the foliate like a chorus
we gassed it

the empty tires went nowhere
a shoal apartment

appeared out of childhood
not now not now I heard on of my brothers say

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Star Field

When abuela came out from behind the glass bushes
she was running her cane up in the air

knocking away the falling stars which had begun to rain down
we were hurriedly pulling up the top of the Caddie

at the same time we were yelling
pronto abuela pronto

grandma was hauling ass
as much as a crippled old grandma can haul ass

the mountain wings we were heading for
appeared to get closer hour by hour

but the next framed minute
they appeared minuscule and axe-like misty

while we complained abuela kept saying
there’s nothing wrong with this planet that a little cilantro won’t cure

the stars finally stopped falling
and the salty moons rose like yellow seeds

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Pit Stop

We made pinpoint progress toward the mountain
sun shining like a fish in the sky

the cumbersome distance seemed to get smaller
the glittering dish of the climb

an example of descent
the propeller like a snake

let loose on someone’s desperate breath
should the convertible run out of gas

inky walks would not be good
each screen to separate sand from us

we kept driving and convulsing into the double night
until it tripled itself

until we had to stop
so abuela could pee

Monday, August 15, 2011


As we trudged along on the hard quicksand
our eyes bulged out as we came upon

a 1960 Cadillac…what was this relic
doing on the other side of the solar system

we boys stood there in awe until abuela said
see if it starts…we looked at her

as if she was suffering from Alzheimer’s
but I climbed in anyway

and to my amazement the keys was in the ignition
my hand crawled towards them

like a Mexican centipede
I said a padre nuestro

and turned the key
vroom vroom went the

the powerful V8
the motor not the tomato juice

Friday, August 12, 2011

Across The Ashen Sea

Abuela stood guard while us boys
ate beans and tortillas

the ray gun machinegun pointed out the window
she had once shot the earlobe

off an alien at a thousand yards
that’s about as close as you’d want an alien to get

tomorrow we must cross the cinders plain
the beetled boat would have to suffice

we told each other none of us very confident
the hill from which the sun rose

was straw pink when it was time to go
we paddled for what seemed like light years

our sombreros soaked from the constant rain
tooth fish swam in abuela’s bonnet

the shoreline was in a slumber when we landed
and did not put up a fight

each grain of sand protected by a force field
the sea had an appetite of skin

we found refuge in a cave
which motioned to us in its sour clothes

sometimes you have to wonder
how and why these planets came to be

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Con Abuela In Outer Space

Why had we dragged our aging abuela
this far out into the warring solar system

abuela would not be proud of her grandsons
these knobby oceans which washed ashore

on this alien and abrupt planet
exuded past glory…its temples

needed babysitting now…the watery lightning
was more of an irritation than a threat

the enemy used it to their advantage
or so we thought…their black rockets

were odd…their gender snapped in two
once they were killed

abuela made beans and tortillas
on the cumbersome coals we made out of wild fish bones

the angry moons crisscrossed the skies
like barrio kids twisting and coiling hubcaps

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Homage To Space Dust

Out in the vast darkness the space dust says
this is what I am famous for

no argument here…no need to pass the buck…
I once asked a Mexican who should have known better

but he didn’t savvy…a comet flew by
went back in its cave

the asteroids wearing the same robe
and the same belt…mark that down

for the next gift-giving season
yet the house of space dust none the worst for wear

my rocket ship sharp as a razor blade
its nose thawing out

the vegetation growing in a tank down below
lets go a smile

which drops to the floor
and crawls up somebody’s leg

Tuesday, August 09, 2011

Crashing On The Moon

Walking on the moon eating moondust
lying down sleeping in craters using my sash as a pillow

your handbag missing since last august
your high heels the ones gave you nosebleeds

what’s happened to them? I’m always hearing
that rockets are coming to get us

help is on the way the broken cones which lie about
still unexplained the occasional crunching rain

dragons whistling in crater snow
bashful of the sun I guess we’re stuck

with the situation grin and bear it
I’m surprised you’re taking it so well

a comet in the sandy trees headed to earth
pauses in the berries and continues

breaks the monotony of the black stars
oh for the twisted pipes of downtown

Monday, August 08, 2011


The robot has so many skills hidden away
in that metal skull of his

the power of the flash the strong light corralled
in his gloved hands the strength of tens of chimps at least

but he is governed by the laws log jammed
ice built up between ice

sight divided from sight by the mere fate
which accompanies and ushers

said the beautiful young woman
by appearances too young for such wisdom

the robot knowingly at hand
its rotating antennae after something

however remote or near
the meteor shower of black leather

swoops in and then gathers itself up
like some other garment some other fabric

Friday, August 05, 2011

Aztec Goddess

No Aztec goddess now
but way back when

can’t fight Spaniards
from here

the jungle
in my thick-headed skull

poison arrows
captive poison arrows

the virgin
wasted in a well

the directions
we follow today

dark brown
yet so light

Tuesday, August 02, 2011

The Diner

Getting into a fight in a diner
because Mexicans aren’t welcome

the spine of a cactus blue in the face
clouds with billowy and bushy tails

you can’t get real life just by living
or pausing in mid-sentence

the owner of the wayward
at the beck and call

of the caterpillar girl
her many sweet legs still Mexican

nonetheless and nonetheless
we shall go but farther down the road abuelo said

Monday, August 01, 2011

Then And Now

uninterrupted wildebeest

dropping into the muddy river
of her blonde hair

anxious light modeled from clay---
from what scavenged star

its beast of jungle heat
dumped on big city flowerpots

the million buildings swallowed by human lions
boogie woogie all evening long

she threw her hair back
her owl eyes once raped by a janitor

in the sixth grade girlsroom
her toes a great joy her tongue her lips

superfluous now
she’s dancing with a spatula