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PDA
Holding hands with her daughter
they crossed the street
Her other hand caressing
the cell phone
fingering the buttons
a coy smile
slight giggle
staring into its light.
A quick tug from the daughter
and mom knows there is a curb,
a hurdle to overcome.
Their Oil
down my street,
took the Otis to my 7th floor
turned on my flat panel
to see the news from the coast
Oil! Everywhere!
How could they let that happen!
The birds! the turtles!
I took out my Papermate to pen a note to my senator.
Nah, I’ll just e-mail my disgust
about what they do and what they didn’t do,
about what they should do and shouldn’t do.
I’d take the bus tomorrow
if I could stop to buy my coffee.
Outsourced
I sent all jobs to Mexico
and did not shed a tear
I’ll make more cash, the stock will soar
by bonus time next year
Now sales are down, no one’s employed
there’s economic fear
Guess I forgot: no jobs = no sales
cuz my customers are here
Downtown
Fear I feel
as I walk the downtown streets.
I’m afraid of them.
Their loud talking
Their different clothing
these ‘owners of the street.’
Their buying and selling
brings ruin to children, teenagers
mothers, fathers
A word stabs
a decision kills
sometimes without thinking, mostly without thinking
I’m afraid of them
The corporate ones in suits.
Caballo de palo
Mi caballo de palo está durmiendo;
Anoche se fue a jugar.
En calles vacías huyó corriendo
No sabía a que esperar.
Pasó por la casa de un gran amigo
“Quiero que venga,” pensó.
“Amigo, amigo,” llamó por la reja.
A la ventana su amigo llegó.
“Vente conmigo a conocer el verano
Escapémonos una vez, ¿ya?
Da miedo ir solo, yo cuento contigo,
Calladito oirá tu papá.”
Mágicamente y solo se abrió la ventana
Y al caballo el niño montó.
Se fueron del pueblo con luz de estrella
En el camino que el sauce mostró.
En sombra de luna hallaron un lago
Cantando feliz, “do, re, mi.”
Nadaron, pescaron jugaron un rato
Juntos con otros allí.
Los duendes amables les contaron un cuento
De elfos y gnomos y más.
Las hadas hermosas bailaron de flores
Con alas brillando atrás.
Pero ya era hora de volverse a casa
El lago y bosque dejar.
“Habrá otra noche de cuentos y hadas.
Duérmete niño ¡Soñar!”
Regresó a su casa mi caballo de palo,
Ni un sonido oí.
Temprano el niño me dijo el cuento
Y por eso a ustedes pedí:
Silencio por favor,
Mi caballo de palo está durmiendo.
Years of Education
At the bottom of the swimming pool
The standards didn’t matter
Common Core for all
The same for all
Except when we differentiate
Because we know
The same for all
Isn’t justice
At the bottom of the swimming pool
The standards didn’t matter
Especially to his parents
Watching from the edge
Red flashes reflecting off the ray-bans
Wondering
Had he been a truly happy individual?
Whose dreams had he followed?
Thirteen years down the drain
Battles fought won and lost
An individual learning the same as everyone else
That life is too short because
At the bottom of the swimming pool
The standards didn’t matter
The Bubble Poem
New from Burma
“I never rest
I practice much
my bubble test.
“I know lots
I’m not in trouble
My teacher taught me
how to bubble
“My mama works
a shift, a double,
So I don’t have to
I learn to bubble
“To study stars
some use the Hubble
I don’t study
I learn to bubble
“Dad’s out of work
He’s grown some stubble
That won’t be me
‘cuz I can bubble”
The Phoenix rises
from the rubble
The childrens rises
from the bubble
Double double
toil and trouble
cauldron burn
and children bubble
(For an end to too much testing!)
Reading your Reading
Do I read too much into your reading?
Your eyes say bored
When the frustration passes
When the rage subsides
Herded like cattle
Measured with the same stick
A sugar cookie cutout
Trying to be authentic
As I watch you read
I wonder
How to change systems
So you can be you and not
Standard
