Chicano Poet

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

The Jabbercoatl

Quetzalcoatl often stayed up late
talking to Henry
about how tough

the philosophical
and the carnal
are to appease.

Feathers flying
in his conversation,
stone against stone.

Henry could only do
his Jewish thing---
bound by centuries,

there was, of course, no escape.
The feathered serpent
just nodded,

more feathers floated
like astronaut faces
on the moon.


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