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This is a section where I post poems sent to me by people who have found my site and wish to display their own works. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!
This poem is by cm
Ha'bitos de los Santos
That summer she drifted
on an inflatable flotilla
praying for limes
to compliment her Corona.
She spoke of childhood
searching Durango
for arrowheads,
finding shards of pottery
pieces.
She traded cigarettes
and whiskey to the Indians
for kachinas and jewelry.
Her habit covered her
a fine veil,
face tight
flesh and bone beneath.
3 "Hail Mary's" and a black molly.
If not to save her soul,
then to get her through the night.
Chasing away the darkness
with veladodra candles of the Saints,
crying at the sight
of herself in the flames.
She took a vow of silence
blowing her head off
the "why?"
pieces.
That summer she searched
for salvation in the splinters of the beams
in the straw of the adobe
of the Mission San Jose de Laguna.
She would leave nothing as grandiose behind.
She would leave nothing.
She would leave.
She would.
She.
Copyright 1998, ELM Publishing
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