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Popocatépetl

“How, unless you drink as I do, could you hope to understand the beauty of an old Indian woman playing dominoes with a chicken?”
― Malcolm Lowry, Under the Volcano  
 
 
the room  is crowded, sultry 
sweats with frustration
the functionary loves his power
to make people wait hour after hour
some need to register births, others deaths,
they sway and smell of drink, unimportantly;
others stink of sweat, with holes in their clothes
a woman begins to screech and plead
the judge wants her on her knees
she is pregnant - see - she has cildren to see to
the functionary draws the blinds
it is very hot and not yet 10am
one or two people wave bank notes at him
he sees these first: one is paying a fine, 
the other taxes, he encourages them forward
it is always so nice to talk to educated people, with money
next he sees the pregnant woman
he squirms, she is requesting assistance in the form of vitamins
his coffee has arrived, he slurps as he drinks,
he registers births, marriages, deaths
deals with permissions for change of use, alterations, bedrooms, kitchens
the committee will review these - too - in time 
he often looks out of the window
only sees the pregnant woman beneath the gallows tree. 
 
 
🌷(3)

◄ Beloved City

Winter tree ►

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