04-26-2018, 06:46 AM
Thoughts of a Mayan child
My father is a chacon, Kingdom’s best
at opening the body cavity
to tear the beating heart from living chest,
appeasing Gods, and letting blessings free.
He came for me today, all robed in black,
made sure they served my meal of peyote
and psychedelic mushrooms. He’ll be back
to paint me blue, and add the finery
of gold and silver necklaces, rare stones
that grab the sun and darken it. Today
I’ll fly into that pool, join rotting bones.
I hope his red beans choke him. I can’t say
why Gods need children’s bodies, but it seems
they’ll take all they can get of bloody dreams.
My father is a chacon, Kingdom’s best
at opening the body cavity
to tear the beating heart from living chest,
appeasing Gods, and letting blessings free.
He came for me today, all robed in black,
made sure they served my meal of peyote
and psychedelic mushrooms. He’ll be back
to paint me blue, and add the finery
of gold and silver necklaces, rare stones
that grab the sun and darken it. Today
I’ll fly into that pool, join rotting bones.
I hope his red beans choke him. I can’t say
why Gods need children’s bodies, but it seems
they’ll take all they can get of bloody dreams.