J.C. Mari

some of the men have
tattoos on their arms
with the faces of women gone
like rain from summer sidewalks.

a couple of blocks away
the flash and ruckus of fireworks
like distant arguments.  

the 6-man band
plays their antiseptic
sugar strains
in the gazebo 

in the middle of the public square.

you sip your beer
and watch the mass of bodies
enthralled to cadence
in the mexican night, 

the black everywhere out there
an eternal heartbeat
death horse gallop thunder

and the mass of bodies moving
shifting, turning 

winter forest fearing lighting.


 Back Table of Contents forward