Citrus flower hangs heavy in rain-washed air.
Restless parrots argue over palmfruit,
their brilliant green tails flashes against the lapis sky.
Coyolxauhqui’s round white face
watches over all from above the temple.
Xolotl’s blood drips on the parched soil.
He watches each drop fall, his bright star in the west
following the sun toward the ocean.
His vessel heavy, his blade worn,
Xolotl regards the traffic on Alvarado Street.
This blood, this sacrifice
that in Mictlan could raise the dead from their dry bones
here falls lifeless to the pavement
splatters the low and whitewashed wall of cinderblock
between the parking lot and the 99 cent store.
He carries the dead to their eternal home
he guards the sun in its transit of hell each night
and longing for Xochiquetzal ruler of artistry and joy,
the precious pleasure-flower goddess, her headband of green feathers
brilliant in his home’s remembered sunlight,
Xolotl again takes his long blade,
scrapes wash-water from the laundromat window.
This is really nice. I love how it ends, what the blade winds up being.
Have you got any poems about the axolotl? I love me an endangered be-gill’d salamander.
In a Yucatecan grottl
Lives the mighty Axolotl
Fine-toned skin all pale and mottle
wears the fearsome Axolotl
Fearsomer than any bottle-
driven specter, Axolotl
brave prehensile-fingered glottal
gills denote the Axolotl
salamandrous sideburn wattle
decorates the Axolotl
Poets who fear being shot’ll
spurn rhyming the Axolotl
but the wise will never coddle
those who spurn the Axolotl.
Doling verse with spoon or pottle
little serves the Axolotl
Doggerel spun at full throttle
honors best the Axolotl
“Never mind the who or what’ll!”
Shouts the fearsome Axolotl;
“Cowards, grant me kisses caudal!”
Dares bravehearted Axolotl.
In our hearts, the pale and squat’ll
live forever: Axolotl.
*snapping fingers wildly*
(That’s even better read aloud… at full trot I’ll / declaim your poem of Axolotl.)
Ah, that’s the ticket.
I don’t want to slight “Xolotl”—it’s OK, but I LOVE “Axolotl”!
I am strangely sad that “Seattle” doesn’t quite work in this rhyme scheme, because I love the thought of a poem about an Axototl that lives in Seattle (or should I say Seatl?).
And I agree with James about the image of the blade in “Xolotl” - beautifully done.
I tip my hat and lift my bottle
And drink to the song of Axolotl!
I bang my drums and don’t care what’ll
the neighbors think. Hail Axolotl!!