Last night
At Mother Tomas’,
We danced the
Chicken-with-its-head-chopped-off,
Her hands on my buttocks,
My crotch puffed
Like a lung
And holding its breath.This wonderful woman
Stitched my neck
With kisses
And told secrets—
The silverware she stole,
Her spinster aunt
Living in Taxco, a former lover
With a heart condition.
I in turn, being educated
And a man of
Absolutely no wealth
Whispered a line
Of bad poetry