By the 16th
of September St.
white w/ awnings
they all are
bisquet con jamon y queso
Unfurl where tables are
One block over
de Mayo st., whapped w/
the firmament knotted
w/ ribbons, amps, los oyos
de St. Jude.
in the metro
three tiny handmaidens
one pouch of sweetrolls
this picture I’m not in
The lanterns are like traps
to us, we ate on into the night:
cruchy rice, cold spring
rolls hecho en Mexico
The mouth of a snake
The mouth of a a deer
The mouth of a a a frog
dogs to and from
Full Leopard Suit
A face on the husk
Faces that are stacked on
the stone of the sun
of the mural standing
on a Watermelon
The walls, real red, 245 steps,
pyramid of the moon
Will buy a book on Mexico City Murals.
Will ask everyone why they have not gone to Mexico City:
In lists of names on the driveway.
White names written on the aloe fronds.
Why travelers wear scarves.
Names of streets that rhyme, pre-
Will ask back for water that is cold in bottle.
Will call them finches on the street.
As a cloud.
The red and blue weather:
“We are between mountains. There is nowhere for it to go.”
20 grey finches.
Their blue and red fingers.
The traincheck, the giant tire. No sound
that is not faltering, plugged, found.
A family scooting together, lights tilt the floor.
A white ridge lifted out of the river, canal
The grey chair of morning coming up to me and back.
Will be on the bridge all morning and lift.
Will pay you back in hands of corn, lime juice, papaya.
Will cut everything thru the center, thru the mural up the stairs,
Your face at the other end of what you are saying, 20 faces on,
Imperial, knotted, a tooth in your shoe.
thru the train
selling burned cds,
pieces of chalk, razors,
occurs to us
“Tomorrow at this time,”
the canal is wide enough
to turn around we do
Will grow herbs along a rotten fence
wire me a calendar along a long blue table.
Set out / clear dishes.