Saturday, February 17, 2007
Weekend postetry
To the chicks in the combat boots
In dirty jeans and headscarves

Who stood in front of churches
With condoms and signs

Proclaiming Silencio=Muerto
and laughing

To the chicks in combat boots
Who came to each memorial

And cried a little in the back
while getting a glass of water

For his brother
Who flew out from Odessa, TX

To the chicks in combat boots
who lay down at the die in

In front of the White House
On Pennsylvania Avenue

As another chick in combat boots
Drew a chalk outline around your limp body

I see you out there
You're not wearing the t-shirt anymore

But you're still angry.


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Blogger tk said...

Great poem...i still wear my shirt, proudly, of course.

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