We interrupt this...
María, I don’t blame you.
Your name chosen with malicious intent
you are the West Side Story girl
default name for all of our women
when bigots drink too much.
You are the twin of José
the mother of El Niño.
María, you are not a hurricane.
María, you are the distraction
from deeper meanings of destruction;
the history of abuse
and involuntary sterilizations.
Scapegoat of imperialism
and colonial thugs.
Muh-ree-uh.
The use of your name
insidious blame
that we have somehow
done this to ourselves.
The village idiot of the world
defiles you
sees in you a woman
he can “grab by the pussy”
as security detail obediently
avert their eyes.
María.
You have been repeatedly
gang-raped then called a whore
by rapists who hide behind
the village idiot of the world
too stupid to know he’s their fall guy;
the unzipped lout
gurgling with profanities
and primary school adjectives
who abhors the sound of Spanish.
María.
you have been robbed
of your riches
by parasitic thieves
who call you a deadbeat.
Predatory scavengers
have long been with us,
defecating in once clear waters
bloody talons digging through fertile soil
to grow unnatural things
calculated contaminations mutating
all semblance of justice.
Erosion by malicious negligence
ethnic cleansing
of we who are called
cockroaches
by deviant exterminators
counting their bounty by death
their doughy flesh coddled
in brass tacked leather
made of skins
peeled from the backs
of the silenced.
Top shelf cocktails swirl
into hurricanes.
Tightly rolled cigars
with names the smokers
mispronounce
burst into aberrant flames.
Ice cubes clink against the Baccarat
flaring up the Richter Scale.
My eyes refuse to close
despite my weary body’s pleading.
There are parts of us
that cannot be touched
or harmed, or killed
or forced to sleep;
as evil is legion
so is love.
As greed replicates
so does resistance.
Like the pelican
offering its throat
to feed its young,
like courageous hands
wielding machetes
to clear impassable roads,
like scarce water shared
in the presence of death
history pours
its waterfall of wisdom
upon the next generation
to take back what is theirs
beginning with their names.
Borikua.
María.
José.
Magdalena Gómez, Copyright, 2017, All Rights Reserved
I began to create this poem with the shorter one I wrote and posted on FB on September 26, 2017 at 9:40 a.m.
I rename this hurricane 45
I rename this hurricane PROMESA
I rename this hurricane Imperialism
I rename this hurricane Colonialism
I rename this hurricane Avarice
I rename this hurricane Wall Street
I rename this hurricane Big Banks
I rename this hurricane Big Pharma
I rename this hurricane Negligent Bigotry
I rename this hurricane Erasure
María is the victim, not the perpetrator.
My name is Magdalena Gómez and I stand with all victims
of Tyranny and Unnatural Disasters.
Magdalena Gómez, Copyright, 2017, All Rights Reserved Magdalena Gómez and I stand with all victims
of Tyranny and Unnatural Disasters.
María, I don’t blame you.
Your name chosen with malicious intent
you are the West Side Story girl
default name for all of our women
when bigots drink too much.
You are the twin of José
the mother of El Niño.
María, you are not a hurricane.
María, you are the distraction
from deeper meanings of destruction;
the history of abuse
and involuntary sterilizations.
Scapegoat of imperialism
and colonial thugs.
Muh-ree-uh.
The use of your name
insidious blame
that we have somehow
done this to ourselves.
The village idiot of the world
defiles you
sees in you a woman
he can “grab by the pussy”
as security detail obediently
avert their eyes.
María.
You have been repeatedly
gang-raped then called a whore
by rapists who hide behind
the village idiot of the world
too stupid to know he’s their fall guy;
the unzipped lout
gurgling with profanities
and primary school adjectives
who abhors the sound of Spanish.
María.
you have been robbed
of your riches
by parasitic thieves
who call you a deadbeat.
Predatory scavengers
have long been with us,
defecating in once clear waters
bloody talons digging through fertile soil
to grow unnatural things
calculated contaminations mutating
all semblance of justice.
Erosion by malicious negligence
ethnic cleansing
of we who are called
cockroaches
by deviant exterminators
counting their bounty by death
their doughy flesh coddled
in brass tacked leather
made of skins
peeled from the backs
of the silenced.
Top shelf cocktails swirl
into hurricanes.
Tightly rolled cigars
with names the smokers
mispronounce
burst into aberrant flames.
Ice cubes clink against the Baccarat
flaring up the Richter Scale.
My eyes refuse to close
despite my weary body’s pleading.
There are parts of us
that cannot be touched
or harmed, or killed
or forced to sleep;
as evil is legion
so is love.
As greed replicates
so does resistance.
Like the pelican
offering its throat
to feed its young,
like courageous hands
wielding machetes
to clear impassable roads,
like scarce water shared
in the presence of death
history pours
its waterfall of wisdom
upon the next generation
to take back what is theirs
beginning with their names.
Borikua.
María.
José.
Magdalena Gómez, Copyright, 2017, All Rights Reserved
I began to create this poem with the shorter one I wrote and posted on FB on September 26, 2017 at 9:40 a.m.
I rename this hurricane 45
I rename this hurricane PROMESA
I rename this hurricane Imperialism
I rename this hurricane Colonialism
I rename this hurricane Avarice
I rename this hurricane Wall Street
I rename this hurricane Big Banks
I rename this hurricane Big Pharma
I rename this hurricane Negligent Bigotry
I rename this hurricane Erasure
María is the victim, not the perpetrator.
My name is Magdalena Gómez and I stand with all victims
of Tyranny and Unnatural Disasters.
Magdalena Gómez, Copyright, 2017, All Rights Reserved Magdalena Gómez and I stand with all victims
of Tyranny and Unnatural Disasters.
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