The
beauty of mass hysteria
shapes
Guernicuervaca all over again
like
deja vous in the sky with diamonds
moving
toward the truth
She calls for assassination like a dream
that
glistens upon Missouri
flowing
like bleeding colors
into
red waters
A rose of time with the smell of death
supplanting
century plants along the avienda of heroes
with
fictions written like opulent ornamentation
with
guarded gates and tree frogs.
