Wanda’s Picks for December 2016

December 1, 2016

Death came to the old revolutionary – put out what was left of his cigar – leaving him his military cap – so they would not place laurels – that would bother him. It is no little thing to confront the empire – & survive its rage of a mad dog – from which a bone is taken. Oh Cuba of the bitter history, – of palms, dances, songs, – of the drums of Alegba and Yamayá, – of the cane made sweet by blood and sweat – mourn and remember, sing, dance, work – for justice and never return to slavery. © Rafael Jesús González 2016