We took for granted the good weather we did not think of it the grass grew beneath our feet between the cracks of ladrillos blood red, tanned by years of sun and rain. We did not think of it as not having a real body or the body being a stick the head was rubber, and it rode. Mine was called Silver before I knew what it meant. It takes time to understand what time does to people and things.

Overlapping worlds: this is the cosmos the board is embroidered with and tells its story. All the board's a stage, the deer our little brother. In Easter, blood-red flowers grow in the desert of our penance. Starving for sky and sunshine, the poet covered himself with ashes. The Elders, wise, know the Yoemem have this power others can't explain.

There is a wind machine that keeps fire in check It works with breeze afuera el aire malo/adentro el aire bueno threaded in colour it breathes the heat and the black smell you must get on your knees (mind your fingers, cause it bleeds) do not let it catch fire you don't need them to tell you how but no, you might not know what it is search the web for definitions find leafblowers the word no longer means It works with breeze what it does, it can

Destiny is rhyme and spring nine hells three heavens our remains hard and sweet sugar. Mictlantecuhtli wore bones as their amor owlsong at night voice of cougar. Destiny is rebirth dead wood regreened nine hells three heavens the black path to Xibalbá our remains our names & thirsts.

They wear the motley coat of jesters: like fools they tell the truth. Of a feather, the birds do fight together they hold on to your finger like a terrified fiancé. El palenque in Ixmiquilpan sees them clash green and red under the belt: Men and women, make your bets, a way of life as bloodsport in a star-crossed box drawn with lime. They wear the motley coat of jesters: what luck will they reveal?

We come from the stone age: the magic happens here. It is medicine, nutrients, seed, sauce cornerstone sediment of history the centre holds heavy cold, totemic- it is everything multiple make, serve, be. Basalt broken in before it works: Texolotl and Molcaxitl need each other. We come from the stone age: this is the tool no life without its power Sooner or later you need to have one you may have forgotten it is so essential.

So many thoughts of home burst with the smell then heat sight religiously a crowd of faithful revere the old woman el comal cóncavo la vida en la calle roots not la hoguera not chimenea cooking to take away the embers with the hand of other braceros took braseros, died with them- a new land as promised legend. Arms, glowing coals abrazos and remembrance.

Sunshine this morning feels about 28 million light-years from our planet Ergo we dream of Pierre Mechain or Charles Messier. Also, William Herschel- galaxies a list of objects /that are not comets/ in the sky sombrero: swirling into what is almost certainly a massive black hole.

We come back to ourselves again and again and again and again we know it as kids, remember it as adults then come back up and down the thread hangs.

For Paty In my language, cog rattle, noisemaker, ratchet: Signal to noise Arabic: from مَطْرَق‎ maṭraq stick, hammer, chatterbox to knock, bang, strike. Aramaic: from טרק‎ to hit, sting, bite, close a door, mix. Talmud: pakia? What is a madra? Rav Papa says: An Arabian whip whose end is split. Suena la matraca noisy, fun, old. Every sound comes from somewhere else. What fortunes will the racket bring?