Puerto Rican Obituary

by Pedro Pietri
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“Puerto Rican Obituary” was first read in 1969 at a rally in support of the Young Lords Party, an anti-imperialist Latino youth group in New York. Like the Black Panther Party, the Young Lords were community activists, supporting demands for fair and affordable housing and decent health care, and they ran free breakfast programs for children. They linked their neighborhood militancy to a program that called for the end of U.S. imperial adventurism in Vietnam and elsewhere, third world liberation, an end to the oppression of the poor and people of color, and the building of a socialist society. The Young Lords were destroyed by U.S. government provocations in the mid 1970s, but Pedro Pietri continued on as a radical activist and poet—he saw no distinction between these roles. Most notably he helped to found and sustain the Nuyorican Poets Café, an acclaimed center for oppositional arts and literature.

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Pedro Pietri was born in Ponce, Puerto Rico in 1944 and raised in Harlem. After high school, he was drafted into the U.S. army, served in Vietnam, and returned to the United States a fierce opponent of that war and the system that spawned it. “I realised who the real enemy was, and it was not the Vietcong in their black pajamas, but the mercenaries who invaded their country.” On fire with rage against the system, he wrote, “Puerto Rican Obituary,” first published in a collection of his work with the same title by Monthly Review Press in 1973, as well as eight other volumes of verse. Pedro Pietri died of cancer, aged 59, on March 3, 2004.

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The power, insight, and message of “Puerto Rican Obituary” continue to resonate among activists and dreamers all over the world. As the New York Times put it recently “three decades ago, a poem ignited a movement.”

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—The Editors

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They worked
�They were always on time
�They were never late
�They never spoke back
�when they were insulted
�They worked
�They never took days off
�that were not on the calendar
�They never went on strike
�without permission
�They worked
�ten days a week
�and were only paid for five
�They worked
�They worked
�They worked
�and they died
�They died broke
�They died owing
�They died never knowing
�what the front entrance
�of the first national city bank looks like

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Juan
�Miguel
�Milagros
�Olga
�Manuel
�All died yesterday today
�and will die again tomorrow
�passing their bill collectors
�on to the next of kin
�All died
�waiting for the garden of eden
�to open up again
�under a new management
�All died
�dreaming about america
�waking them up in the middle of the night
�screaming: Mira Mira
�your name is on the winning lottery ticket
�for one hundred thousand dollars
�All died
�hating the grocery stores
�that sold them make-believe steak
�and bullet-proof rice and beans
�All died waiting dreaming and hating

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Dead Puerto Ricans
�Who never knew they were Puerto Ricans
�Who never took a coffee break
�from the ten commandments
�to KILL KILL KILL
�the landlords of their cracked skulls
�and communicate with their latino souls

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Juan
�Miguel
�Milagros
�Olga
�Manuel
�From the nervous breakdown streets
�where the mice live like millionaires
�and the people do not live at all
�are dead and were never alive

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Juan
�died waiting for his number to hit
�Miguel
�died waiting for the welfare check
�to come and go and come again
�Milagros
�died waiting for her ten children
�to grow up and work
�so she could quit working
�Olga
�died waiting for a five dollar raise
�Manuel
�died waiting for his supervisor to drop dead
�so he could get a promotion

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Is a long ride
�from Spanish Harlem
�to long island cemetery
�where they were buried
�First the train
�and then the bus
�and the cold cuts for lunch
�and the flowers
�that will be stolen
�when visiting hours are over
�Is very expensive
�Is very expensive
�But they understand
�Their parents understood
�Is a long non-profit ride
�from Spanish Harlem
�to long island cemetery

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Juan
�Miguel
�Milagros
�Olga
�Manuel
�All died yesterday today
�and will die again tomorrow
�Dreaming
�Dreaming about queens
�Clean-cut lily-white neighborhood
�Puerto Ricanless scene
�Thirty-thousand-dollar home
�The first spics on the block
�Proud to belong to a community
�of gringos who want them lynched
�Proud to be a long distance away
�from the sacred phrase: Que Pasa

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These dreams
�These empty dreams
�from the make-believe bedrooms
�their parents left them
�are the after-effects
�of television programs
�about the ideal
�white american family
�with black maids
�and latino janitors
�who are well train
�to make everyone
�and their bill collectors
�laugh at them
�and the people they represent

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Juan
�died dreaming about a new car
�Miguel
�died dreaming about new anti-poverty programs
�Milagros
�died dreaming about a trip to Puerto Rico
�Olga
�died dreaming about real jewelry
�Manuel
�died dreaming about the irish sweepstakes

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They all died
�like a hero sandwich dies
�in the garment district
�at twelve o’clock in the afternoon
�social security number to ashes
�union dues to dust

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They knew
�they were born to weep
�and keep the morticians employed
�as long as they pledge allegiance
�to the flag that wants them destroyed
�They saw their names listed
�in the telephone directory of destruction
�They were train to turn
�the other cheek by newspapers
�that mispelled mispronounced
�and misunderstood their names
�and celebrated when death came
�and stole their final laundry ticket

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They were born dead
�and they died dead

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Is time
�to visit sister lopez again
�the number one healer
�and fortune card dealer
�in Spanish Harlem
�She can communicate
�with your late relatives
�for a reasonable fee
�Good news is guaranteed

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Rise Table Rise Table
�death is not dumb and disable
�Those who love you want to know
�the correct number to play
�Let them know this right away
�Rise Table Rise Table
�death is not dumb and disable
�Now that your problems are over
�and the world is off your shoulders
�help those who you left behind
�find financial peace of mind

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Rise Table Rise Table
�death is not dumb and disable
�If the right number we hit
�all our problems will split
�and we will visit your grave
�on every legal holiday

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Those who love you want to know
�the correct number to play
�let them know this right away
�We know your spirit is able
�Death is not dumb and disable
�RISE TABLE RISE TABLE

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Juan
�Miguel
�Milagros
�Olga
�Manuel
�All died yesterday today
�and will die again tomorrow
�Hating fighting and stealing
�broken windows from each other
�Practicing a religion without a roof
�The old testament
�The new testament
�according to the gospel
�of the internal revenue
�the judge and jury and executioner
�protector and eternal bill collector

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Secondhand shit for sale
�learn how to say Como Esta Usted
�and you will make a fortune
�They are dead
�They are dead
�and will not return from the dead
�until they stop neglecting
�the art of their dialogue
�for broken english lessons
�to impress the mister goldsteins
�who keep them employed
�as lavaplatos porters messenger boys
�factory workers maids stock clerks
�shipping clerks assistant mailroom
�assistant, assistant assistant
�to the assistant’s assistant
�assistant lavaplatos and automatic
�artificial smiling doormen
�for the lowest wages of the ages
�and rages when you demand a raise
�because is against the company policy
�to promote SPICS SPICS SPICS

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Juan
�died hating Miguel because Miguel’s
�used car was in better running condition
�than his used car
�Miguel
�died hating Milagros because Milagros
�had a color television set
�and he could not afford one yet
�Milagros
�died hating Olga because Olga
�made five dollars more on the same job
�Olga
�died hating Manuel because Manuel
�had hit the numbers more times
�than she had hit the numbers
�Manuel
�died hating all of them
�Juan
�Miguel
�Milagros
�and Olga
�because they all spoke broken english
�more fluently than he did

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And now they are together
�in the main lobby of the void
�Addicted to silence
�Off limits to the wind
�Confine to worm supremacy
�in long island cemetery
�This is the groovy hereafter
�the protestant collection box
�was talking so loud and proud about

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Here lies Juan
�Here lies Miguel
�Here lies Milagros
�Here lies Olga
�Here lies Manuel
�who died yesterday today
�and will die again tomorrow
�Always broke
�Always owing
�Never knowing
�that they are beautiful people

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Never knowing
�the geography of their complexion

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PUERTO RICO IS A BEAUTIFUL PLACE
�PUERTORRIQUENOS ARE A BEAUTIFUL RACE

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If only they
�had turned off the television
�and tune into their own imaginations
�If only they
�had used the white supremacy bibles
�for toilet paper purpose
�and make their latino souls
�the only religion of their race
�If only they
�had return to the definition of the sun
�after the first mental snowstorm
�on the summer of their senses
�If only they
�had kept their eyes open
�at the funeral of their fellow employees
�who came to this country to make a fortune
�and were buried without underwears

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Juan
�Miguel
�Milagros
�Olga
�Manuel
�will right now be doing their own thing
�where beautiful people sing
�and dance and work together
�where the wind is a stranger
�to miserable weather conditions
�where you do not need a dictionary
�to communicate with your people
�Aqui Se Habla Espanol all the time
�Aqui you salute your flag first
�Aqui there are no dial soap commercials
�Aqui everybody smells good
�Aqui tv dinners do not have a future
�Aqui the men and women admire desire
�and never get tired of each other
�Aqui Que Paso Power is what’s happening
�Aqui to be called negrito
�means to be called LOVE

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