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Friday, January 7, 2011

you strike like Pluto whose Planet is Not.

I recreate what You say by no Choice
of mine. Wouldn't I rather be Free as Birds
of all Stripes and Colors? See my Feathers:
They were burned in Attacks that forced my Voice.
Violeta, Sylvia, Delmira, Julia,
mis Hembras soy de su tribu AmorSer
Libre de la Tristeza Oscura ser martir
del Mundo en que mi Madre fue Esclava
So, here I am, my window half-Blinded
to endure the truths of Burning Energy
that Incinerates the humble Refuge-
seekers. That is my Trouble with you, Crude
Insensitive World, by your Mighty Shots
you strike like Pluto whose Planet is Not.

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