Dancing chairs and
Trucks full of hair (rope,
i am later told) upstairs,
la revista militar
de avacion, aerofotogrametria
beneath the chandelier lights
"they were just towns,
and now, they are
actually cities"
Jesus, the Meridian teen
who dreams of dinosaurs
in New York, and sells
hammocks from heaven
(cielo is the word,
if you really must know)
and Yuri Knorosov
staring at me with
his cat, cryptic as the
Mayan tablets he labored over
and found here, in Merida,
amid easter egg houses,
surely they knew their scribbles
would be immortalized, forever
in a jpeg taken on Jimmy's phone
which more conscientious beings
recovered
long after the world
exploded.
No comments:
Post a Comment