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today i will wander to the brothel
those divine friends of Jesus
where i will intercourse
with the ladies in my growing Spanish
write some lines to ponder
while they wash clothes and bathe
i the balneologist with the brandy
we watch t.v. novellas
share laughter, sip the liquor
risibility creeping as jungle vines
laughing at and with the world
while summer's oppression lies outside
above the tropical fan in perpetual motion
until a tempest rips reality away
we toast those in some new york dinosaur
grasping at a decade of some man's thought
to gas pedals working 
Los Angeles over and over
we drink to the flies breeding everywhere
parents who offer their children to prostitution
thievery, starvation, war, slavery
trains arriving, children sold to factories
making cheaper goods, cheaper life, 
and tennis shoes
it was in Belize i noticed Howler monkeys
abandon no child at some border
we drink to the religions
performing miracles everywhere 
but the hospital
granted it is God's domain
collections for the orphanage
minus the commission
a lady at the orphanage wanted you to know
and if you listen
they will blame God for all of this
humans demand perfection in everything 
but themselves
the detritus looks to me like manmade
today i want to voyage 
into laughter's oblivion
here where the ladies busy the day
prepare for the night 
escaped from the rum tabula rasa
here is my escape from my hovel
the dictionary i have already read once
outside the mountains scream, slash, burn
here i share shots
sharing conversations in the mother tongue
the one so rare for the poet to rise above
never venturing here at night
where the customers have their fill
later one will walk to town, get a taxi
they will load the poet and papers in
i stare back to the alohas, adios
those divine friends of Jesus
will throw away the empty bottle
the taxi knows these times
the road thru the neotropical forest
thoughts lost in leaves, limbs, alcohol
the driver helps me upstairs
finds the key, opens the door
the desk has come to know
he does this a few times a month
when he goes to the post office, bank
he pays the bills come morning
the bed accepts the cigarette burns
he must leave his jungle hovel
where the lines consume him
remembering now the woman
euroretarded, who explained
sex was all the poor have for pleasure
as i left the hotel i left her a jar
inside was a a pig's liver
the note attached simply said
have the men warm this for pleasure
it will produce 
no more abandoned children

today he wants no mind
he only wants laughter's oblivion
Jesus and friends

so, Olga, i finished the story
i never came to condemn nor condone
sip brandy, chat awhile, 
forget outside those fires raging 
across the mountains
i just wanted to be with my sisters
learning the mother tongue
during the day 
when the whoremongers sleep
the men have come to resent my smiles
fear the ladies have shared their secrets
as i traverse the pueblo
i wonder how your killer is doing
i hear he found Jesus in jail
i found Jesus in you
remembering midnite mass, people staring
prostitute, poet, brother, sister
the true family is not always sanguineous
you taught me my first prayer in Spanish
Jesus hanging on the cross
smiling for the first time
just us girls having fun
that was all we ever wanted

tonight my heart lies broken
i am crying again
teach me to forgive, Olga
where once i had a beating heart
now a tempest rages
and in life, i must go on
teach me to forgive
that your memory
enriches my life with a virtue
a friend of Jesus taught me forgiveness
         
   San Blas   92   Patient Stones

Encased in talent like a uniform
The rank of every poet is well known
They can amaze us like a thunderstorm
Or die so young
Or live for years alone
Wystan Hugh Auden
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