My guilt is filthy water – forgive my sin [poem]

My guilt is filthy water; still now, beads

of silt cloud my sight

this land is sold. that parcel gone

is cold gas, fueling my anger

my guilt is that i can’t get it back

my crime is jailed homeboys

mark, marty, marcos,

locked up; silenced;

and danny sitting under morning shade

sipping a bud light.

my crime is leaving the barrio and all of them behind

my sin is “bury the dead.”

i will not cry. I am proud.

i sanction living like a warrior

i do it to wake our dead.

my sin is not shaking hard enough.


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