An Inclination to Deliver this Message to Old Camaradas from Back in the Day Regarding Something I Said after my First Time Back to Kick It at Griffith Park Once My Vato Got Sent Away

Big Puppet said it.

Nothing changes.

Not shit.

Long time back.

Tempo going on

Without us;

While his young vato ran into the Sears

So fast

His feet flew over the street

Like dragonflies or

Hasty moths.

But what if things did

Change?

What if life was cut up

Into seasons--

Some parts frantic as blizzards

and huracanes,

That destructive;

Other sects

Pleasant as caterpillars,

Unruffled as whispers?

All of it fitting together like pie?

What if?

Today, I could show them.

Years after the fact.

Splay it onto a table top

Like a blubbery cow tongue,

A chunk of la verdad.

Now, I have that ammo.

Proof of the hurricane

Exonerating its own muscle,

Giving sediment,

Clearing the way;

I could show them my shoulder, now.

13 --. All my hickeys.

All my Aguanto.

I could show them these poems.

I could show them both.