From The Magic Bus
FLOR
The pale moon hangs on a long black cord
and beckons. The king of hearts is turned upright.
Does that mean yes? The face on the card
Is the General. A strong wind
scatters the needles from the cedar that
has been growing since before the Conquistadores.
ALTA GRACIA
The General's jeep pulls into the balmy night.
He flicks his cigarette ash
FLOR
on my white roses.
ALTA GRACIA
He brushes his big arm across the tablecloth.
FLOR
The red heart of the king cracks.
A song of shattered glass
and crickets leaves streaks of blood
on the trumpet flowers
embroidered by my grandmother.
(she holds up her middle finger)
light from the opal
will strike him like lightening.
FLOR
The pale moon hangs on a long black cord
and beckons. The king of hearts is turned upright.
Does that mean yes? The face on the card
Is the General. A strong wind
scatters the needles from the cedar that
has been growing since before the Conquistadores.
ALTA GRACIA
The General's jeep pulls into the balmy night.
He flicks his cigarette ash
FLOR
on my white roses.
ALTA GRACIA
He brushes his big arm across the tablecloth.
FLOR
The red heart of the king cracks.
A song of shattered glass
and crickets leaves streaks of blood
on the trumpet flowers
embroidered by my grandmother.
(she holds up her middle finger)
light from the opal
will strike him like lightening.