“Open your fucking mouth,” slipped from outside in through the bathroom window on Easter Sunday.
A dog desperately barks for freedom all last night and the many nights before and the many days before. The dog continues to be held in a cage.
Neighbors complain and no one is kind enough to knock on the door and ask how we can help. Only hush-hush talk of discomfort between neighbors.
Sirens scream out from afar,
War streams all day and night,
Plumes of dark smoke rise up high as a manifestation of power and destruction live on t.v screens,
Perceptions of ‘WE’ are at war at the local market parking lot.
The sound of chop chop of knives up against the wooden block at the corner taco stand jumps across the street.
No whispers of an unhinged moment in history; one of many!
All is quiet.
No public outrage over a tortured child with cigarette burns on his legs by men in uniform!
“Don’t worry about the world, worry about yourself,” a conversation at the corner liquor store between two men, one on the floor doing push-ups at 10 pm for a few bucks while the other counts.
A tree gone leafless and thirsty, begging for a few drops of water!
Fear comes in all shapes and forms!
Punk ass cowardness comes in all shapes and forms!
“Open the fucking Strait, you bastards!”
The street walls on edge patiently wait to be covered in protest,
Art skewed to the comfort of safe messages.
90 miles to close for comfort!
Las America swirls like loose leaves from a leaf blower in the hands of deranged Yankees!
All is quite South of the border, “si senor lo que usted diga.”
The redrawing of a new dawn courtesy of a desperate empire,
Breathing nanoparticles of decimation dipped in blood and hate,
Trails of pain multiple times,
1492 again!
Solidarity swept beneath the rug,
Outrage kept at bay,
Resistance kicked around,
On your knees or else!
Love gone astray,
Hope on the floor in a state of convulsion in urgent of mouth to mouth resustation!
* The title is inspired by a Mexican comedy satire show titled ‘Que nos Pasa’ in which society, culture and politics were questioned. ‘Que nos pasa’ can translate to what is wrong with us.