© 2005 león
This year, for Dia De Los Muertos, I built a shrine dedicated to the memory of those who fell during the conquest and colonization of the Americas.
In fifteen-hvndred and six
Colvmbvs crossed the river Styx.
Did he know what he wovld find
When he left Madre España behind?
(i pledge allegiance to yovr flag
and all that jazz aside)
Trve north waiting?
Perhaps a pear-shaped world,
(Like a woman's honey breast)
Great golden calves to fatten and gorge on,
Vast watery doldrvms
In which to kill time,
The endless sea . . . .
. . . . . five hundred years later,
this is a prayer for those caught in his wake.