I was once buried
in the cemetery at the top of the hill
but erosion has wiped away fallen comrades,
and through the general disintegration of time
Neither I, nor my headstone is worthy
of my Terra sanctuary.
They gathered around my grave
a site of Carnival, the beers passed around the tombstone.
Old friends pay their respect by day,
and the teens know how to tango
in the early morning
dancing from headstone to headstone
sunrise spotlight on macabre stage.
Now even the vandals don’t come around anymore.
The house cat, bronze iris and black pawed,
traces it’s way around my burying ground
The senorita, margarita in painted face,
hold my holiest of days
and the children tire of my wandering fingers
who knew the body
would be the vehicle
ensnared and tangled
caught in eternal flame
to imprison their manifestation
to imprison the soul.
Though I was never baptized I have known the ceilings of heaven
though I’ve committed no great sin
I know the delusions of hell
They don’t tell you that it’s in the air
just under our noses
where we couldn’t possibly have seen it
we couldn’t have guessed