--- 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.