I saw the milky way tilting westward

Tonight, I saw the milky way tilting westward
And westward still
I saw its dirty white arm sweep in icy arch
And pinch my brownish pain
Father said, soon it would be parched land again
Parched streams, stones searing and stealing the steam
Of inabraw from the native pot.
Gravel burns the arroyo of our ignorance, stubborn
Our people wean from these welted wastings
Caught in its youth, the mind stops
In age, lazy for wizened salvation
Soon, our cold black night of snatched dreams, of fears invade
Our cold night of kidnapped visions come avisiting in arrogance
Thrusting its scimitar of wilted blade of rice
Across our fictive land
And the land will be dead with gasping blood.

Yet, we will grow fruitless seeds of wrath in stony eros
In seasons of treason left by the sun
Beat the soil with spokes of wailing, flail it with tears again
Drive our brooding aches into shapeless arches
Hearts across rivers of temperance
But still we slurp our linugaw in defiant ethos
Heaped with homespun, illusion metaphors
And we will say again in smiling tones, hiding the grind
Behind the grin:
“Yes, here, we grow fat with poverty!”

But the milky way is tilting westward
To block the rivers, to dam and damn the brown soul still
To call the drying powers fast in their winged emptiness
The sun, the moon, asteroids would do nothing
They will aid in wringing dry the rain, the lean dew, the hope
With the milky way rotating slow
In tight twisting grips like twining rope
We sit on the husk of time awaiting our poisoned rain
Sip our own reluctance, bath in rites of deadly spring?
We can flee this dusty damnation too
Jump the neck of tikbalangs shrugging from their daybreaks
To the rim of the milky soup of stars and drink too our dew
Our eyes and hearts but detained in the brown sod
Like our placenta buried beneath the pan-aw eaves.

I saw the milky way tilting its heavy white arm
Moving, all moving, tilting westward in avalanche
Churning the universe into slurry brown
Wormholes of hunger for an inverse dream.