a remote village that i did not deserve to see

image.jpglinks of house chained along
the Guayamouc river

and drummers will drum,
“death!”

cement houses sink to yellows of chipped paint and sunset oils

river reflects the mirror

and singers will sing,
” life!”

naked babies’ hair washed in baptism of muddy river and cholera spirit

bellies filled with grief

and mourners will mourn,
“no word can fill this struggling space.”

what passes from grann to manman to sè if not the yellow fire of hope that extinguishes the sun?

at dusk the missionaries pass by on their way out on motos

tossing hard candy with one hand
while holding on for dear life to the hungry belly of the hired Driver from Ranquitte.

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