[This was published in the Spring of 1991 in the New Mexico English Journal.] The Poem,Sitting there, dead.The Poem,IT is no longer read.As it lies on the table, it makes no movement, it spreads no joy.I get the boring task of cutting it open and pulling out the guts.It doesn’t matter if a noun or…

They say the world is great… Forget about famine and hunger,Forget about racism and war,Forget about ecology and resources,All the countries are like that.There are too many ethnic barriers that can’t be broken.Too many countries act on their own. They say you should be proud to be an American…No. Not me. Not from what I’ve…

He lay adorned in blood.Bones stay broken… maybe forever…Never healing from the pain and agony.Beaten, rebeaten, abused, and reabused.A black man lies on the street almost dead.Many pass by without a glance.He looks up… to see a white man laughing.He wants to cry, but can’t.No help…No help anywhere.Shame…Shame to all those foolish mortals… white mortals.They…

The End.The End is near. Survival?Survival is impossible… unpratical… illogical…There is no escape… from death…There will be no spared lives…To live is to live in pain… agony… slow death.The world will remain but the people will not.You cannot survive the End.Do not feel sorry.Do not mourn for the dead ones.The people will be dead… the…