Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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With a fierce clap the sky broke
Lightning coursing my chambers
No wires filling the atmospheres
Only violent convections moving
Torrential flooding, jails of rain.
Looking for alternatives to serve
Escaping one life for an unknown.
I would die pitched against the sea
Defending rebel walls hedging up
A mad ideal before blue breakers.
Human life, equality worth more
Than gold and oil in the desert.
My Beemer torched in a fire storm
Leaving me disconsolate and poor
Why me God? Only rice, no beans
Libreta filled this week, standing
In line doesnít help. My journal
Pages blowing in the wind, wet
With salt spray. My documents
Original now publicly registered
In some protocol of feigned order.
Dawn of September 28th the 44th
Anniversary of the Revolutionís
Defense, smoky stew pots and rum
Bring on a new year of communal
Vigilance, social action, progress.
Remembering the C.I.A. bombs
Bursting in air to historic words
Manifest today in a model miracle.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F. September 28th 2004
La Habana, Cuba