The Bottom of The L.A River

Injustice fed by piecemeal ground
to a fine powder mixed with flouride
and water from the bottom
of the LA river
 Like scavengers we feed
on subsistence,
nurse the toddy

Labeled a degenerate wet back
Our culture dejected, pattern,
thrown into preformed Anglo shapes
You don't know,

who I am
 
Laying ourselves down
on sheets of mica, honor kept
in books no longer used
stacked high as a nightstand
beside our multidimensional
dream filled mattress.

We sink, the sleeper cheapens reality
Deceived we  build furrows with
broken collarbone's of our ancestors

Tending gardens of hope where rabbits
 and hares run screaming, for Alice
to rescue those who sink into the sieve,

who's reality ?

Generations,
their nescient behavior ingrained,
instinctually trying to escape.
Forever pasted  into a collage

Irregularities are not the imparities.
Nothing  could revive our faith
made numb by the whore,
 in her well of abundance

Tear off my ear spare me her lies.
Cauterise my sight I can't look
any longer at the spreading
of your spores your righteous indignation

The illusion instilled in me
has died, giving birth to a blackbird
who devours hate.
Far he travels to find your seeds
sprouting in desolate barren fields
where humans don't tread

Will peace be seen within
this formulated captivity?