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.
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.
Labels: Lemon-AIDS
1 Comments:
Great poem...i still wear my shirt, proudly, of course.
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