Starting this blog page off with the story of some real douchebags out of Austin, Texas who bulldozed a piñata store out of existence in order to build a parking lot in time for a SXSW party they were going to put on. Never mind that the rent was paid and up-to-date. Oh, and yeah there was also that little nugget about how those responsible for the demo referred to the little shop as a possible drug-dealing front, and also comparing the owners, who are of Mexican descent, to roaches.
That got me thinking right away about a poem I wrote some time ago which is in my book "The Fluid Chicano" (plug-in!). I'll insert a sample here 'cuz I know you are busy and this is a teaser anyway:
Brushstrokes (OF the End of the World)
Paint brushes dripping blood
The picture of the world
Formed and nurtured by war
The flood gates of distortion
Of lies and half-truths have opened
Attack! Attack! Attack!
Preemtive priviledge is the right!
Stomp those cockroaches coming under...the door
We cannot accept the brown paint
Creeping on the souther canvas...
I'll leave it there because the point was that I first thought that I was being overly dramatic with my wording of some of these poems. But then you read about f***ed up things like that and it hits you like a kick in the face and a knee to the nads at the same time. To read more about it check out this link to an article in Latin Times.
Well, there is contribution numero uno. We'll see if I can come up with something else tomorrow.