Let them end world hunger With genetically modified seeds, They took María and hung her, For fighting for what she needs, And every time I thought of you I thought of your branded scars, Seared in red, white and blue, And decorated with many stars.
I used to think I was alive, Until living became dead, They say that you will thrive When you let them in your head, And you won’t put up a guard, Just let them take control, Giving you a stone for a heart, And dead eyes for a living soul.
Dust storms come and go, Tumbleweeds roll on by, You go where nothing will grow, The drought betting you will die, And with a jug of water, And tortillas in a sack, You took your son and daughter, And they said you wet your back.
The dreaming was farfetched, Out of reach for simple ones, Butterfly wings outstretched, You traveled many suns, Many fields through many springs, Because spirit cannot be confined, Out where the summer stings, And winter freezes your mind.
Coyote sang his sad song, As you hummed your weary tune, Night knowing they did you wrong, Tears shed by the cobalt moon, They said you were too anxious, Too desperate and too outrageous— María hung from mesquite branches, And her children were put in cages.
ALL GLORY TO GOD
Legal Binding
The silver lining, It is legal binding Between black and white, Darkness and light, Different shades of grey, Come out and play, The game is rigged.
Political sin, No way to win With dead man’s hand, Legal contraband, Aces and eights, Hard luck awaits, Voter’s been tricked.
Old El Paso, You are a sand castle Borderline oasis, Life after ten paces, Hearts on the labor, Loving thy neighbor, Too far over the edge.
Mexican attire, Starlight on fire Kicking up dust, Amidst the mistrust, Caressing the cactus, ICE target practice, No loyalty to pledge.
Life in betrayal, Caught up in a tale Rounding up brown people, Clown on the steeple, Cold ones to anoint, White sheets to a point, Always unstable.
Higher etiquette, Playing devil’s advocate To show all is fine, Sign on the dotted line, Blood-filled fountain pen— All hail the orange harlequin, Dancing on the table.
ALL GLORY TO GOD
Manuel Lozano is a Chicano writer made from the dirt from the mountains of El Paso, Texas. Born and raised in the cradle of the pachuco, his writing reflects his love and respect for Creator with cenzontle singing his Rarámuri hymns and colibrí humming his hand-carved violins in the rolling fields of blooming ocotillo and nopales.
Discover more from Xican@ Poetry Daily
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Xican@ Poetry Daily 