I Am Not...

I am not the memory of a hard mother's voice staccatod like gunfire of "Why don't you"? "Why can't you"? I am the desire to flow clear like a silver river floating free like a butterfly on wings of poetry. I am not the words of some catchy corrido lustily sung nor the mere rhetoric written on banners waved vigorously. Nor the graffitti painted alongside Che Guevara's likeness undeneath the international bridge at Juarez/El Paso. I am more the tears of women the hunger pangs of children the red of spilled blood youth's undying hope a city's choked back blossoming dreams I am the sacred words: Sobrevivir. Sobre Salir. * corrido- A Mexican ballad- a death always occurs. * Sobrevivir- Survive * Sobre Salir- Transcend, Rise Above.