The Sea
Whatever it is we are doing
It is only making the storm stronger
There is land under the water
And there too we drill
Capitalists dream of bottomless pits
Then piss and shit the bed plastic
All life began in the ocean
And there too we kill
There are mountains under the water
Cities too I imagine
Arrogant and delusional
One day the sea will swallow us whole
Storm Warnings
When it finally
All goes down
When the titanic
Finally sinks
When there is nowhere
Left to hide the money
When the alps finally melt
When Switzerland
Becomes a barren desert
And the Caymans
Are buried
Miles below
Sea level
The fortune five hundred
Will set up
Tax shelters
On the moon
A storm is brewing
From the winds of Fukushima
From the ash of three mile island
From criminal negligence
From the killing plunder
You can hear the distant thunder
Strip the earth to feed industry
Strip mine the country
To enrich the city
Milk the city
To engorge the capital
Make weapons capable
Of destroying the planet
Turn profit
From tankers that poison
The ocean
Factories that darken the sky
And a storm is brewing
From the ghosts of Bhopal
From the graveyard of exxon valdes
From the soot that is rising
Out of an industrial revolution
A commercial revolution
A Chevy revolution
Inviting you to
Join the mad chorus
As the rubber hits the road
From the fall
Of the rain forest
Show
Those
Who would live
In natural rhythm
Villages
That would raise children
To the tune
Of a rain drop’s
Song
The savagery
Mechanical man
Is capable of
Let them know
That a storm is a comin
That a hard acid rain is going to fall
From the Yellow River
To the Niger Delta
From the Cuyahoga
To the holes
In the o zone
Over New Delhi
Mexico city
And Cairo
From the geological crime scene
Of the river Ganges
To the bitter harvest
Of terminator seeds
From the mountain tops
Chopped off
In the heart
Of Appalachia
From the Canadian tar sands
To the coal seams of the badlands
To the polluted streams of Gasland
There is nowhere to run
There is nowhere to hide
No shelter from this time
And a storm is a brewing
And you had best beware
For what profits a man
Should he gain the world
But cannot breath its air
And this is no way to live
Because this land
This sky
The sea
Was made
For you and for me
For us and for we
For them and for they
Who are not yet born
Who have yet to hear
A single rain drops song
So our hearts are stirring
Our feet are marching
The choir is rising
So to those who would
Turn this earth
To wasteland
Our home
To landmine
To save a nickel
Or scrape thin dimes
With their eyes
Set on mountains of profit
Well you had best
Batten down the hatches
Cross your fingers
And lock your doors
Because a storm is brewing
And you have
Been warned
The Rich
The rich
Well they’re not like you and me
They see an opportunity
And they grab it
Reach for the stars
And they put em in their pocket
Company stays in the red
But they’re backed by the government
Snort the public dime
Into lines of pure profit
Research and development
The rich
Well they’re a different breed
Champagne wishes and
Caviar dreams
Thoroughbred stallions
Quarter billion mansions on the sea
Deepwater horizon
Blood diamonds
Golden parachutes
Silicon messiahs
Feasting
On endangered species
Served on silver platters
In winter palaces
Carved from the tips of icebergs
Six figure charters
Vulture capital
Million dollar cufflinks
Plucking life like an apple
Insured by suicide nets
Lifestyles
Of the criminally negligent
But you havent lived
Until you’ve launched a car into space
For no fucking reason
Now that’s what I call freedom
The rich
Well here’s how it is
Dollars and cents
Trademark and rent
Facts and figures
Lines on a ledger
Derivatives and debt
Building the future
Increasing productivity
Union busting back
To the hundred hour work week
Producing monopolies
With real money
Shortages and bets
And that my friend
Is how the rich stay rich
While the rest
Make poor decisions
One city
One factory
One family
One boarded window
At a time
And its pure ecstasy
Living in the lap of luxury
Selling pharmaceuticals
At the mark up
The market
Will bare your body
To its altar
At a life or death bargain
The gospel of wealth
Cause it is what it is
And that’s all its ever been
The less we spend
The more we keep
You see
The rich
And the poor
Well they’re just like you and me
Two hands
Two feet
The sky
The sea
Everything between
One heart that beats
And the time
to make the most of it
So you’ll find no sympathy
Reaching into these deep pockets
All we ever asked was our fair share
And god damn it
That’s all of it
It’s ridiculous
You know you need us
You know we’re selling your secrets
You know you’re still sending us DNA kits
While you’re out in the streets
Screaming for peace and justice
We’re sleeping in satin sheets
Counting numbers jump over screens
Liquidating pensions
Waiting on us to wake to bid
On porcelain and portraits
At billion dollar auctions
So you got pots and pans
Well we got deeds and plans
Chopping down rainforest
Colonizing the moon
Were the rich
Who the fuck are you
Watching the tv puppets
Debate free speech fascism
freedom democracy
While we reach into the earth
Break ground
Punch through o zone
And fuel the economy
But no worries
We got
Spacestations
Hydrating the red planet
Were gonna survive this lava pit
And if we dont then at least
We’ll die rich
You want to fight
We’ll just privatize the water supply
Then copyright the tears falling from your eyes
Burn it all down
What the fuck are you talking about
The icecaps are already melting
Eat the rich
We’re already killing your god damn kids
One coral reef
One cancer alley
One carbon footrpirnt
one gashouse emission
One oil rig
One no bid
One warship at a time
and well get away with it too
nothing we say or do
will ever be used
against us
havent you been paying attention
were rich
About Matt Sedillo
Matt Sedillo has been described as the “best political poet in America” as well as “the poet laureate of the struggle” by academics, poets, and journalists alike. He has appeared on CSPAN and has been featured in the Los Angeles Times, among other publications. He has spoken at Casa de las Americas in Havana, Cuba, at numerous conferences and forums such as the National Conference on Race & Ethnicity in American Higher Education, and at over a hundred universities and colleges, including the University of Cambridge, among many others. He is the current literary director of the dA Center for the Arts and author of Mowing Leaves of Grass (Flowersong Press, 2019), which is currently being taught at California State University at Northridge and Monterey Bay, as well as at Mission College. His Three Act Poem structure has been taught as capstones of coursework at UCLA and Occidental College. His next poetry collection, City on the Second Floor, will be published January 2021.
Born in El Sereno, California in 1981, Matt Sedillo writes from the vantage point of a second generation Chicano born in an era of diminishing opportunities and a crumbling economy. His writing – a fearless, challenging and at times even confrontational blend of humor, history and political theory – is a reflection of those realities.
The poetry of Matt Sedillo is in turn a shot in the arm of pure revolutionary adrenaline and at others a sobering call for the fundamental restructuring of society in the interest of people not profits. Passionate, analytical, humorous and above all sincere, a revolutionary poet fortunate enough to be living in interesting times, the artistry of Matt Sedillo is a clarion call for all those who know a new world is not only possible but inevitable.
Learn more about Matt and his work, see his website: https://www.mattsedillo.com/