Zapata and His Children

This is a war from long ago
And it has just begun
With the morning mist
When you lusted their land
When you first saw them
You drove the from their farms
Like cattle to a Slaughter
You raped their
Culture,
Land,
And People
For Five hundred years

The woman next to me
Hidden beneath her ski mask
And red bandana
An M-1 slung around her shoulder
Will cry bullets and blood
For her dead children

With the Flood they came
Down from the mountains
They are the last
The last will of the Compeneros
Through the Marketplace
They marched
Onward through the Neighborhoods
The World’s eye captured at last
Here’s the Tet offensive in the
Land of the Sun

The World has all but Forgotten
Our Pitiful Plea
To be people again
In the Jungles we will die
In the Jungles we will pass
In the Jungles we were
Now In Death
Like the rest of Us
We are Tired
Don’t leave us Alone
For Five hundred Years