The Flowers of Old Mexico
Originally published in English in Short Beasts, October 2024
ENGLISH ONLY:​
​
A single man on a leash, bound, naked, flinging around. His eyes are broken, his soul is red.
​
BOUND FOR CULIACÁN. GUILTY OF TREASON
​
Roiling gates and a tiled plaza. Jeering women with heavy breasts and dyed skirts. Boys sell bananas. Fry bread oils. One dog yaps at another.
​
The man sheds a tear as he is lead through the procession. A seamed face, now pelted with day old fruit.
​
Up the steps, to a flowering gibbet. He writhes, he wiggles, he’s gone.
​
A hundred cries fill the air. Hats and humorismo to celebrate damnation.
​
“Do you think he was guilty?” one man says to another.
​
“No. I think he believed in something”.
​
​
​
ORIGINAL BILINGUAL ENGLISH/SPANISH VERSION (Not published by Short Beasts):
​
A single man on a leash, bound, naked, flinging around. His eyes are broken, his soul is red.
DESTINO A CULIACÁN. CULPABLE DE TRAICIÓN.
Roiling gates and a tiled plaza. Jeering women with heavy breasts and dyed skirts. Boys sell bananas. Fry bread oils. One dog yaps at another.
The man sheds a tear as he is lead through the procession. A seamed face, now pelted with day old fruit.
Up the steps, to a flowering gibbet. He writhes, he wiggles, he’s gone.
A hundred cries fill the air. Hats and humorismo to celebrate damnation.
“¿Crees que fue culpable?” one man says to another.
“No. Creo que creía en algo”.
​