The Feathered Warrior
by Luis J. Rodriguez

(for Marcos Cordova, who at 16 years old was
killed in the streets of Chicago)

The streets call out many
to be renamed,
to be initiated
into a world,
to be reborn into darkness,
to taste death so as to revel in it;
streets that feed off
all the great hungers,
all the great angers.
These streets have called out a fine warrior,
who fought with fire and feathers,
who ran poetic fingers over concrete
walks—a warrior who carried
the rage for all of us,
pushing the emotional edges
to the depths of all our rivers.
He scared the world with honesty
because justice ran in his veins
as did the street’s blood.
His death has given us life,
not as savior, but as our son,
who has toppled the betraying fathers.
Clay, feathers and jade eyes:
Sixteen years of man madness
created such a dreamer.