I was the first Chicano to write in complete sentences.
Dirt rolls from his palm, Blades of grass Tumble from his hair.
It appears these days I don't have much of a life because my nose is often stuck in a book. But I discovered that reading builds a life inside the mind.
Because nothing should be wasted In a world where sparrows work hard To prove there is enough.
going back and forth, back and forth, getting nowhere
I drank that sentence and began to glow.