24 December 2009
More jet lag (when will I NOT see a three as the first number on a clock in the middle of the night?). Try as I may I cannot make it past about 21.00 and then crash asleep as if I were hit by a train. Up, however, with the returning clubbers which is a [...]
22 November 2009
This morning I was served tamales
By a woman who’d been beaten
Near the street where eight crosses made of marigolds
Against the impact
Of the ignorant
On the innocent.
In the church
Crosses of flowers and flickering candles
carpet the floor of the empty church.
At the feet of the virgin
a lone Indian man kneels, weeping silently,
his sombrero by his side.