The perfect storm

The perfect storm empties a country of abuelitas, padres

Hermanos

Mujeres

Y niños

A disaster that doesn't seem so natural

Waves of mind

Damaged homes

Hovering roofs made of tarp

If you wanted to take land from a people

Bent on resisting colonialism insert McDonald’s

Walmart

Or the Jones Act

Or blame it on a storm of a woman named Maria

Who grew up in Spanish harlem

Who reminded us of the western story

That as the rich are getting richer

The poor are getting poorer

Never mind the wealth

That ain't so common under the foot of US force

The way loss runs through steep hillsides

Or

Rivers swell the veins between vacant towns

We blame the thirsty but not the corporations that tax water

The shocking doctrines of profit over people

Exploited tunes and tones of rhythms Taíno for tourists

And escapism por la isla de encanta

We, we lament the boriquen tongue

In power outages of Spanglish

Cursing the companies of settler colonial conditions

For the prayers and litanies

Tears like rosary beads

In the sewers of sorrows

Where fantazma sing

From the sore throat blueness of blood

The border between refugee and nomad

Migration is the art of fleeing sad songs

For blooming in suitcases la gente fuerte

And mourn wondrous

We belong

We belong to each other

Before any notion of a nation

No one will understand

The tangled trues

Of being from here and nowhere

The beaming cocqui that still visits in dreams

They won't write us in history

If we don’t write ourselves

The uncle who drowned in Coronas

And ham sandwiches

Visions of never playing pro baseball

Or the aunt

Who claps the roof of her mouth

When she speaks

Asthmatic and always, always, always high

Who lost six children to the government

Or

Abuela who is always working two, three jobs

To make up for the guilt

Of coming to America

And how she couldn't face returning to no running water

And still there are spirits

There are spirits

Who know every chupacabra has its day

It is time

It is time

It is time

It is time

It is time

It is time

For us to take the red fire of our wounds

And weapon our mouths

Toward new movement songs

Remember

Remember Campos suffering in silence

Separated by an ocean, and a language yet still free

Free

In the love of a people fearless and unafraid

Always

Always a hurricane

It's always a hurricane

It's always a hurricane before the grand exodus

Before the grand exodus

The fight for dignity and independence

San ciriaco

Rattles

Rattles, rattling in every roar

Every roar of revision is history

Pa'lante people

Pa'lante

Mliagros de movimientos

Soar

Soar

Because if we are to live

If we are to live with the fierce force of knowing

Anything, anything that is sacred

Anything that is sacred

Is worth fighting for

Is worth fighting for

Bienvenido

Bienvenido a la lucha

We are worth

Fighting for

Worth, fight

Worth, fight

Worth, fight

Worth, fight

Worth, fight

Worth, fight

Worth, fight

Worth, fight

Worth, fight

We are worth fighting for

The perfect storms

Always precedes great miracles and

We are worth fighting for

Did you know

Did you know

Did you know

That you are powerful?

Did you know that you have everything you need, that every

Everything you need is within you

That you

That you are worth

You

You

You

You

You

You

I mean you are worth fighting for

And that everything

Everything you need

Everything

I mean everything

Everything

Everything

Everything you need

Everything you need

Is within you

That you are so powerful

Great storms precede great miracles

Remember that

Great storms precede great miracles