Sunday, January 25, 2009
this body, this vehicle
used up and abandoned,
a car left at the side of the road.
and where is he now,
wandering in the night, no doubt,
looking to steal a new car.
and drive it somewhere else,
to new faces and places, yet in the back,
so many questions still.
and they're along for the ride,
quietly waiting, 'til the next time around,
or the next, or the next...
este cuerpo, este vehículo
consumido y abandonado,
un coche se fue en el lado del camino.
y donde ahora está él,
vagando en la noche, está verdad,
mirada para robar un nuevo coche.
y él lo toma en alguna parte,
a las nuevas caras y a los lugares, con todo en las atras,
tan muchas preguntas a contestar
y están aquí para el viaje,
el esperar reservado hasta la próxima vez,
o el siguiente, o el siguiente…
Thursday, January 8, 2009
riot police huddled on a side street,
wide-eyed fresh scrubbed faces
wrapped in kevlar and plexiglass.
the ancient aztec woman blows smoke
of copal in your face, every step a benidicion
in this city sinking into the earth.
looking down on calle moneda,
sunlight so bright and clear
through the eyes of a young cat.
sitting now in the still, espacio infinitum
of a leaning edifice, heaven above
the stones carved by untold hands.
symbols jumping across the distance
of time brand themselves on skin,
always, but never quite making the leap.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
a father banging the drum, playing the trumpet, watching his niña,
cool young studs in fashion gear standing by their shiny motocicletas,
couples fucking in backseat parked cars of darkened calles.
a tired mother, a smile to the little girl crying on the metro,
borrachos and the choque machine man wandering in the plaza,
the distracted policeman sending a text message from his platform.
children lighting fireworks on quiet midnight cobblestone streets,
a friend drinking pulque with a thousand years old cult of sacrifice,
breathing, feeling, dissolving, solo en el noche atras la catedral.
(the burning christmas tree) last night, the final night of this stay in mexico city, i walked down calle mixcalco toward my hotel. passing the plaza nuestro señora de san loreta, i stopped for a moment, to feel the air.
this favorite space, of all the many beautiful ones here, trashy and elegant. an ancient spanish baroque building leaning to the east, and like many of the structures here, literally sinking into the earth. the sense is of the ground breathing in and out.
a block away from the hotel, at the corner, i saw a flash of light in a huge pile of garbage on the street. seeming to spontaneously combust, a christmas tree spiked into the pile burst into flames on the empty street.
bewildered, it stopped me dead in my tracks...coming to my senses, i hustled into the hotel niza, the sound of the flames crackling in my ears.