Burying the Umbilicus

Leslie Korn on Mexico, medicine and more..


Posted by lekorn on November 12, 2009


His virtue

No lover between gates

Settled with the rain

An old score.

On Sunday, Domingo’s vision

Obscured amidst the fecal steam

Of bulls and pigs and bird berries

Saw the spirit of heaven

Betray the gift of his life

And rode his machete readily

Through the action of his artery.

He curled as her beans turned cold,

Awaiting his return.

They watched him lizardly,

Not knowing his sacrifice was their

Collective boomerang traveling

His blood to the dirt.

Ancient appeasement to

An insatiable grunting god.

©1982 Leslie Korn, Yelapa


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