Orange que te quiero verde, that's Poeticah

The Visual Poetry of Poeticah explores the boundaries between poetry, languages, and traditional with computer visual art.

This is a poem from my chapbook Blue Mundi.

<<Blue Mundi>> Aztlán in New York Times When blankety blank words on Monday clickety click up railroad tracks reminding me of media frenzies from muckety mucks who yackety yack on the tube, it's time to sing with mariachis on Mexican TV. As these words grow big and burly, forcing me twice from house and home, twofold draining me of vim and vigor, double crossing me from safe and sound, I pray the protein in menudo will triple my strength to resist. They cross me over places I care not to be. Longing for Cancun. Cast me on Long Island's Northshore. Rather be dancing polkas. Trap me in the Eastern Division of the NFC. Pinch my lips when I speak Spanish even in my own home. Yank me out of Mexican grooves to throw me into the past in New Amsterdam. Slide me on Buffalo's ice away from the spices of southwestern suns. They are paper pushers who plaster me under piles of pulp keeping me from evening's Margarita. Party poopers who never bring piñatas to fiestas. Piano players too proud to play cantinas but cheap enough to pilfer from pill peddlers in border towns. The puns keep playing as peace fights in la música when palabras from Aztlán cross swords with cross words in New York times. <<Blue Mundi>>