Sunday, May 29, 2016

Broken


 
Broken





They were married by the moon
on the Pyramid of the Sun,
best man from the Society of Jaguars,
for bridesmaid a flower boy
who loved her yellow hair,
who thought he spoke English,
words lava reefs cooling
in the Pacific of his Español.

They walked, a sun-specked
collection of curiosities, laughing 
along the Avenue of the Dead,
asked the moon, the sun, the stars,
the snarl of the watching Jaguars
for a child
but none came. Broke,
they went back to the States.

He threw the I Ching; the marriage
was annulled. In the neon-long after,
she lost the feel of his deer's eye
startling wild in the dark, the dazzled
pink walls, azure doors, stone streets 
and jade palms of Mexico
where her heart was emptied
on the altar of the Sun.





~May 2016







posted for   real toads

















 You can read about the setting of this story, Teotihuacan, Mexico,   here.






Image; by Saiko: Terracotta figures from Teotihuacan in the Louvre, via wikimedia commons
Manipulated.


9 comments:

  1. This is such a heartbreaking tale, there is so much hope, put in the brokenness of ruins... The images of the marriage such hope, and then the trickle out of wishes unfulfilled...

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  2. I have had a long fascination for the tales, mythology and history of the Aztec people and their civilization. Your poem whets my appetite for more. What it must be like to walk down the Avenue of the Dead, and think of jaguar gods, winged serpents and human sacrifice.

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  3. Love the setting! You captured the feel of that area so well. The tale is a heartbreaker!

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  4. Heavens. I am so in love with this:
    "words lava reefs cooling
    in the Pacific of his Español."

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  5. " she lost the feel of his deer's eye
    startling wild in the dark"

    That's my absolute favorite part of this poem, but the whole thing just vibrates with the spirit of the location that inspires it, and the "gold", if you will, that was hoped for and seemed possible, but never was found, or at least, could not be kept. I read this over and over.

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  6. Your vivid description is so colourful, I can almost see it, like a painting, with the azure doors and pink walls. I especially loved his "deer's eye, startling wild in the dark".

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  7. Hi Hedge--the first stanza here is especially beguiling--all are, but the images of the cultural exchange and supposition, and just the music of your own words--the Pacific of that, quite beautiful. The whole poem works wonderfully--I especially laughed at his throwing the I-ching, where the I seemed somehow pre-eminent; and striking image of heart break too. A very cool vision of this other world--great sculptures as well. Thanks. k.

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  8. maybe it's the AC, this skin-prickling.

    reminds me of Marquez (whose depiction of the ants still crawls under my skin). ~

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    Replies
    1. something eerie about Latin America, day of the dead and calaveras--it's a haunted place, full of blood and sun,

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'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg