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CHIAPAS POETRY
by Jeanne Simonelli
We meet you,
exuberant Chenalhó woman
obscured by neutral fuschia bugambilia.
Hovering hotel staff flit past nervously;
your eyes spill passion in simple phrases
There are no neutral eyes in Chiapas.
Me encanta placticar con
mujeres-
delight in speaking with women:
you say, and I am
enchanted by women speaking,
moving out of colonized silence
the uncanny physics of
pooled powerlessness, becoming power
There
are no neutral voices in Chiapas
They call you,
woman of the streets
For these men, white-haired vieja
with defiant chin is also a whore.
Men fearful of women leading women;
consumed and frightened bearers of Untainted Blood
download conspiracy from stolen computers
There are
no neutral people in Chiapas
I am Zócalo dreamer;
I listen to you;
reaching for my place in your
weaving campesina beekeeper teatro locations.
You teach me with informed gentleness:
fear and intimidation,
seasoned with cilantro hope
we watch you and we burn
with the watching
There are no
neutral places in Chiapas
Traveling deaf-mute
We feast on women’s words;
invited to abandon Mexico; decline
You receive no such fiesta warning
Become desplazadas; bristly haired children
with intriguing diseases;
somnambulant drivers
dead on a canyon bottom
There are no neutral words
in Chiapas
We meet you,
exuberant fuschia woman
They test your hue and constitution
We test their hewn Constitution
passion in simple phrases;
No words, voices, eyes, people, places; neutral
In Chiapas,
No neutral places in your ripening heart.
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