Image: Detail from mural found at San Bartolo, Guatemala
The end ghost which I saw
while I gazed into the God-Nose
came dancing from his water grave:
a Quetzalcoatl Jesus.
Ayahuasca messages scrawled on ancient synapses,
a fracture in the cliffside silence,
whispered blood stolen from orchids.
The bones of a dead race
and the vines on which they hung
became a virgin dance in the lapse of structure.
No–allegro con brio,
a pattern folding over on itself,
as I saw the devil bird resting
on San Pedro Cacti