UNTITLED

UNTITLED

Dark Rum early morning
haze in rainy city rivers
of thoughtless stares,
fatigue from the night
before. Before the sun
came up in the east,
before I came back,
crashed out in the living
room. Discussions on
history, literature, guerrilla
teatro trips to dramatize
the struggle. Visual meta-
lenguaje metaphors.
Revisiting a discussion we
originated in 2006 when
I was clueless, if only about
where I was going and
what I was writing. A
distant lifetime ago it seems.
Rainier beer random dialogue,
decidedly wiser, somewhat,
return to the original thought.
Sharing knowledge, conversing
with Frank about “El Movimiento”
UFW militant prose across the
Cascadian divide fusing rural
activist ethos with urban
Chicana/o student movement.
Back in the day of Brown Berets
barrio activity shadow-activist
presence, in solidarity with
Black Panther discourse. Need
for collecting the lost voices
of the moment. Porque we are
still ignored in the south y
historically marginalized en
el norte. Noting the words,
images I didn’t capture as a
young mocoso escritor, a
generation removed from the
original incarnation of ‘la causa.’
Sippin’ on some wine and
Tecate that Gonzo found on
the porch, his face lit up as
though he had discovered the
secrets of life. Chillaxed,
guitar strumming Frank singing
a movimiento song from the
early dias. Victor Jara and Inti
Illimani, embracing the complex
Inner vato loco-activist-intellectual-
nerd. Missing these discussions,
surprised that a project I wrote for
influenced others. Philosophically-
inclined, watching daylight turn
the sky brighter. Dark Rum
sleepless signs of a new day.



5 June 2009
O. Rosales Castañeda, C/S