katherine ochoa Poems

I really love people

but maybe that is because
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I am what Hitler called the Jews
I am what rich whites called their slaves
I am what the wealthy calls the homeless
I am what Europeans called Native Americans
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My friend wasn’t voting
I asked him why
He said because “it isn’t cool”
I stared back stunned
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I have taken you for granted soil! Wasn’t it soil that Sherlock Holmes pointed to and used to correctly deduct where his client had been? Wasn’t it the heartbeat of the Earth that Esperanza managed to hear once she allowed herself to focus away from the moving clouds and onto the stable Earth? Isn’t it your processes and rock formations that we use to study to foresee the future, understand where we were, and where we are going?

I know dear Earth that all too often people lay on you and ignore you to watch fireworks. That’s the way we are sometimes. We relay on what supports us to enjoy a fleeting show that only pollutes the thing that gives us life. And in this effect we ignore that which lays beneath us but that we forever depend on.
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