by Oscar M
In memoriam Kyle Velasquez
Surreptitious was the knock at the door
In the middle of the night.
Bloodthirsty hounds bay at the moon
Begging for the unknown.
The memorials that precede.
Unjust so readjust said the Senate,
As I’m sure they did after Caesar fell.
La Luna shines bright by midnight
Y los lobos se acercan para comer.
Unclear was the word, now shredding
Flesh like lettuce for side-salad.
They cross themselves as the minister
Passes, even the Evangelicals;
We watch as day fades into night,
The first day.
Twelve now, not seven.
He wears the same suit each time.
She doesn’t cry once.
They shuffle up next
To one another and whisper
Can I sit next to you?
All thirteen times. They
Appear as dos cebras, lavándose
En un abrevadero de lastimas.
New stripes darken with time,
Eliciting whispers of sympathy.
Un osito,
Who planned to enlist after
High school, robbed by
Los lobos. His life replaced
By flags.
Mejicano-Americano.
Un cuento esperando a contarse.
Once, an institution; now, the
Reason for the thirteen days of
Apocalypse, all starting with
Nuestro osito.
Now, they rest,
Under the sun,
Y para él, debajo de la Luna
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