From Lisa Gray-Garcia aka Tiny

root - Posted on 18 November 2009

by Staff Writer

SuperUncleAL - Super Tio Al-

By tiny aka Lisa gray-garcia

" we told them whatever they wanted to hear, Yknow right," his hands are branches - branches of bark and sand, and poder, his arms reach into skies and pull down moons and clouds from manilatown, frisco, to cebu...

"and then the suits from HUD came in, they wanted numbers and real estate and more numbers, yknow right?"

his mouth weaves stories of love and music and ritmo and indigenismo,

waves of blue

and clouds of light,

through his mind, his eyes, his sight,

silenced elders are heard when he speaks,

heard, loved and seen,

dreams are dreamed

drips of sweat from brows of workers become oceans of resistance

when he writes.

The People get might!

"manilatown had to happen, the ihotel had to be rebuilt , by any means necessary, yknow right?" uncle al's soft voice trailed off in the back of my hooptie landing next to the broke down toys, papers and tools forever stuck between the seats...

I never had an uncle - my African-irish-boriken-colonized unwanted mama dee
and me always wanted a family -

This just a dream til I was blessed to meet nephew tony -

And through him SuperAl-

superuncle - tio Super !

A revolutionary - a fighter - an elder to save all elders, - a poet to all Poets -

An organic intellectual

A branch of a tree -

Rooted - saving- holding -

embodies all that people just say

but never know

embodies all that is...


Now temporary felled by corporate medical industrial complex - a flu shot perhaps -

A corporate fix that has harmed so many elders in our


But he is supertio-Superuncle

for me and mi hijo tiburcio

family, poetry, strength ,

everything possible,

So waiting for him to heal

everything is slightly less important

everyones voice is slightly quieted

every fight is humming -

every lover is waiting-

every voice is whispering -

cuz frico's fight is on the 3rd floor of Kaiser hooked up to a ventilator

and so we wait

we dream of when we will hear your words of change - of love -

feel your hands holding up the skies

the moon beams from your eyes-

we all wait -

for Kaiser

to open the metaphorical gate -

release the backbone of maniltown -

superuncle al the Great!


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