A POOR PEOPLE'S POEM

This poem corajudo bold has got a bad attittude un genio from darkness and your afraid of my poem
afraid of this deep dark red poem that bleeds woman words
you you're cuz even though this poem is about survival it isn't about endangered whales or dying forests
Listen this is a poor woman's poem a mexicana chicana mestiza india mujer
Este de los angeles poem yeah thia poem's got roaches crawling all over it and tiny pink mice nibblingat the edges
Listen this poem rides the bus works 12 hours a day 7 days a week with no medical benefits and no paid vacations
Listen this poem has crossed rivers and moutains jumped over and crawled under barb-wired fences this poem has slaved in hot-sun pesticide fields picking piscando your lettuce tomatoes oranges onions picking piscando the vegetables and fruits that make your meals nice and balanced
And this poem has worked all kinds of shifts in inner-city factories sewing packaging stuffing cutting folding ironing the clothes you wear the jeans the shirts the jackets that keep you in style yeah this is a poor woman's poem a brown people's poem so you see right now we don't want to talk about the ozone layer
We the people in this poem we wanna talk about drugs about the alcohol cocain crack heroin impregnating our communities making modern colonized brown black slaves of us
we wanna talk about food stamps about jobs and fair wages about 12 hour shifts and working conditions
we wanna talk about the police about choke-hold and billy clubs about busted heads and handcuffed minds about sharp-teeth dogs and shackled freedom about racist cops who hate poor brown black people
we wanna talk about dyingabout the river of blood flowing where we live about the heads of 2 year old babies scattered on concrete floors about the moutain of bodies here outlined in white chalk
So you see right now we don't wanna hear you preach about recycling cuz poor people like us we've always recycled we invented the word and out of necessity recycled our papers, cans, bottles recycled even our dreams
So you see we do wanna talk but talk about lies about Am er i kkka about treaties broken and lands and people stolen

we wanna talk about SLAVERY u.s colonization Third World penetration AND you you're afraid of my poem
afraid of the East side poem holding hands with El Salvador, Nicaragua, Tijuana, Chiapas, Pico-Union holding hands with SWETO
South central L.A yeah i know you're afraid of this brown black poor people's poem
This poem pregnant with power waiting to be born.

by:Olga Angelica Garcia

This poem is found in http://www.kintespace.com/p_olga1.html