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--- J O S E   C H A V E S

What did I do to deserve, a day full of clouds
who threaten to drown me under oppressive
gray beards?  A day when even the traffic
encroaches like a murder of crows, as you

take shelter in a small cafe, unaware the coffee has conspired with the tea cup to overthrow the laws of gravity and take refuge in the embassy of your lap. A waitress tries to quell

the flames of revolution with a wet towel, grazes your nether region in a painful coup that will last for days; as you sit and think, how you've always hated politics, but knew one day they'd find you.

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