least my son, rising rain in the east
black cars guns blazing, no peace
some may lost, miss my padre
caught that gaucho fire, dire, our cadre
we were, no deter, only spur
to prays, espiritu santo evil men
de uzis fire sprays, grito cry amen
streets of loss, on the cross, suspend
our time to feel the sun burst of rays
transverse time, I am fine, this focus
on daughter to escape gang slaughter
we ran across the border, avoiding the soldier
for the land of the free, no k**ing spree
for the cali tree, this i can see
across my field of open grain, total body strain
to be american, a citizen, is the hope,
but brownican cast a sin, no help rope,
this my blindness, full of ignorance
poured into wordiness of a trance
of sleuths news spews lies a dance.
bow my head to rest, storms rumble down west.