So I wanted to read this poem.
It's called "Ban This" from a book by the same title by--
I have wrote it down here.
It came out of the HB 2281, and it's
from an anthology of a lot of poets by Santino J. Rivera.
It's called "Ban This" from The BSP
Anthology of Xicanx Literature.
It's actually Chicano with the thing,
but all these new titles, all these new ways of saying
Chicano and Chicana, so anyway.
So I use the same--
I called it "Ban This," and this is a series of crown cinquains.
"Disgust lurks in corners of your mouths
when you look at our children who you don't want to grow,
to grow into people strong in their souls searching
for those truths you twist into lies.
Our strength, our strength is in knowing
that we were not born yours, to do with us as you will.
No, we are free.
We are free.
We, descendants of Teotihuacan, of Toltecs, of Chichén Itzá,
Aztlán.
Aztlán, the place you fear.
We might want to reclaim our ancestral homes occupied
by you, by you, who erase truths that cannot be silenced
by boxing up or burning books.
Words live, words live, we remember them, our love,
our stories.
History cannot be erased, not banned,
not banned because their life, their truths,
and beauty beat brightly in our yoyolo hearts.
Always, always, we, a people of hope and struggle,
we never give up being us living, living.
So ban our books, put out a gag order.
Yes, they charred our codices in fire.
Fire burned our tongues mute, but never our minds
to envision the future, your fall from grace."