James A. Hawley
	Almuerzo en San Miguel      Rain Dog watches the parade of Estonians & yahoos Wobble by from his perch atop raspberry sherbet walls   Of the pharmacy & tiendas arrayed along the Rue De la Fin de Siècle. One of a pair of twins   (The other being Pye-Dog) is considered the son Of lightning: the twins themselves are known   As children of the sky, thigh-born kin of the moon’s Light at dusk & are rumored to be buried near the edge   Of a turgid lake on a regular basis. Next up A line of churrigueresque scuppers presented   As the nahualli of the more favored Aztec gods: monkey, jaguar, coyotl;   Dog, snake, eagle, owl, coati & squirrel. Some are carved with bared teeth, ears laid   Back against stone-grey skulls – Foedus, pithekos, bhayate. Remnants of recent   Rains & last week’s blogs drip from the worn & scoured mouths onto the sidewalks below   To the sound of a violin vibrato. Geckoes Fardel or spiral on mottled ginkgoes   (But where are they?) & there must be some Jacarandas hanging around somewhere, maybe   Standing next to the mimosas which reside Cheek to jowl with half-full bottles of Modelo   & Carta Blanca on a white-clothed table Where troubadors & anciennes remark   & quibble over the most fantastic menu Ever offered south of the Rio Grande.   “Is this the prix fixe,” the Posologist asks. “This is not a boxing ring,” & the mesero   Suggests, to start, a Conquestial sangria Or perhaps a nice Wish-You-Were-Here white   Accompanied by the speciality of the house: Sea grubs, sautéed in garlic & whine sauce con   Limón & aggravation. The chef would like To recommend a tureen of flea bisque paired   With huachinango al paparazzi. We too have A “Spectral Chicken of the House,” “Sliced Filet   Of Peas” & “Somersaults for the Queen,” or Forked Lengua Ohuiotl. Tal vez messieur would prefer   The “Veal Tavernman,” “a nice gin fish” Or “Youn’ Pigeon served in its own ectoplasm”   With a side of Inarticulate Jargon or Improbable Argot, followed by a fine syllabub or two & a Cuerpo   Especial on the tracks to complete the meal. “Too much ain’t enough!” the Texan ex-pat   Declaims as he raises his horseshoe to the sky & fills it with Lone Star. Two Finnish   Visitors –goggled to ski & sled– have come To view paintings of conquest & depredations   Muralled on the post office walls In tinctures resembling adobe   Sanskrit, Akkadian sandstone & ziggurat Blue. Of particular interest are the works   Of Miguel Antonio Martinez de Pocasangre  & the outlying architecture which exhibits   “An exceptional example of the exchange between European & Latin American cultures.” Tonight–   As advertised on posters plastered to the walls Of the shoppes of artisans & phone poles– musica   De camera al fresco featuring gudok, nay, gusla Orpharion & tambour with an Olmec interlude   & a Diné choir from Tucumcari, terpsichoric; Euterpean. Then the rest appear. They wish   To join you & your out-of-town guests at the clean White table well-lit by the glare of the Aztec sun   Along with the jugglers & the clowns. Their Timing is impeccable. Foray & phlox   Abound as the tabletops wander off leaving Behind their legs & white shrouds. Notes to the Poem    Lines 38-42: For the “menu” see Malcolm Lowry’s Under the Volcano. New York: Reynal & Hitchcock, 1947, p.291.   Lines 57- 58: For the complete citation, see http://whc.unesco.org/en/news/451