Once upon a time
when I was a child
my purple book of cocos said
if you wear your shirt inside out
or your shoes on the wrong feet
you become Witch Hunter and
can expect brujas to
chant your name
around the black fire Friday night.
If you wander in the forest,
mangled by leñadores who sell cords
behind Super Save,
expect to find them polishing
their tin tubs with pork grease
and children’s tears.
If you neglect to collect
your fingernail clippings
and bless them,
expect sticky black hair
to collect in your stomach.
May God help your soul.
So, I read from my purple book with the loose staples
I read long into the night
but I snuff the kerosene lanterns in the window come midnight…