At Tenochtitlan, the sun beat down harshly / The sweltering heat made the gravel and sand swim and go hazy
I don’t have anything happening to me that hasn’t already muddled its way through you.
Little moments of beauty and cruelty that excite its angelic tendencies
Since the civilizing process began most of us came to breathe by decree and not in the grace of our mothers
my grandfather came to me in a dream and held my hand with his calloused fingers to remind me I had not, in fact, crawled from a crack in the earth but belonged here
and some who don the thread of peasantry
and all presume to claim false fatherhood