Raw Goods

run away

he sailed in the navy
she ran away from Texas
he swam to shore
homophobic grandfather
(exactly - you've got it)

she never came back
that's what they say

a culture, et cetera,
of cotton - which seeds
cut her hand

a child in the fields
an orphan at four
watches trains roar

nursery ditties
plain language
memories of
dinners and

sensory starvation

it hurts when i swallow
rusted screen doors
against porch shadows
of undocumented relatives

five hundred thousand -
enough for a brigade
of Latino soldiers -
warrant more than
three minutes
in this outline of
human existence

and yet, a tirade's never enough:
gotta switch the reference catalogue
to recognize the corn oil celebrations
a hand against the face
radio games
as we run
away

posted by judy j @ 3:15 PM