It comes so easy, this sadness in black.
It is summer here & the heat rises
to remind us all of the lies of spring,
the ruses of fall & the sins of man,
women and those who pray for glory
who pray for gold.
There are many of these kinds
in Los Angeles, down towards
the Wilshire boulevard of the capitalists
and spirit brokers,
those who know how to spell
God's name in reverse,
their utterance real,
their action more than so.
There have been a number of us
who have come to believe
in Monday miracles, blessings too
all year round even
as they empty our pockets
as they mortgage our name.
How much longer we say, how much?
The spirit hungers for the bread
that comes from our trying to be kind.
It comes not so easy, this joy in blue.
Aurelio S. Agcaoili
Los Angeles, CA
2004
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