10 April 2004
22nd day of Spring
22nd day of the Moon
48th year of the Space Age

he is not with us any longer






I wonder as I wander

                  out under the sky



        how   Jesus      the   savior




  came  down
                 for    to

                                    d i e .




We killed him yesterday after marching him through  
  the streets
     to Calvary

The women, and Nicodemus, took him down from the cross before sunset.

He was laid in the tomb.
                                Shhhh... he is sleeping....


      This is the holy sabbath day


          and  He

Is

                  Dead.






       "WHO DIED AND MADE you GOD eh?"

(and now you know the smartalleck answer to THAT question eh? Yeh.)




h e h












  not  apo  strophe   remember






           cata  strophe






aya                 aye                ay














the empty cross in the cathedral 
stands draped in white linen shroud
silent woman figure beside it, waiting

deep, dark curtain behind it

hiding the revelation of tonight
tomorrow


             t h e              f i r e







                      t o      l i g h t    u p      t h i s     m o s t

                            c a t h o l i c            n a t i o n

Last night Mikey and I walked across the park to visit Carlos H in his catering kitchen on Third street.  A few of his friends had gotten together.  We all sat around drinking beer.  Mike and I listened to their animated chatter and maybe understood half of it.

So you're a poet, eh? one asked us.

Yes.  We told them we had written about the Via Crucis yesterday.

But why do you always speak of yourself in plural first or singular second or third person?

Literary conceit.  Affectation.

Ya basta, Daniel.

Okay.

Carmela Castrejon got Luis and me into a fascinating discussion about female traitors in history, literature and mythology. Helen of Troy, Mata Hari, la Malinche, etc.

Carlos agreed with Mike's suggestion that Livia, wife of Augustus, was perhaps another.

Carmela launched into a critique of male-dominated history always pushing the blame for betrayal onto the woman.

It was Moctezuma who failed his nation, she pointed out.

Sigh.

The truth is a hard deer to hunt.

She's a hell of an artist.  I think Mikey is a little bit in love with her.  We both are with her work... HERE's A Quoted IMAGE from her Intento Fallido and its human torsos in fired clay:

---

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She smiled when I got the cockatoo to rub his head and back against my shoe. 

Then some other time said, well, at least they haven't found some woman to blame for Judas Iscariot, eh?

I went home and rewrote it all anyway for this.

---

I am going to meet Tere tonight to go to mass in La Mesa.

OF COURSE I AM STILL SEEING HER?! What? You think that just... because... I don't mention... but...

Heh.

Tomorrow, also, Easter Sunday, we will spend together.  I want to convince her to go visit Paraiso Azteca.  Heh heh I told her I want to go to "Mesoamerican Heaven" in code yes?  Heh heh heh.  Poor woman has no idea....

Unless she reads this, of course.