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
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 ?
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?