feathers fell from queztacoatl
and formed into bleeding volcanoes
i scratched though the veil and sipped from the bottle
and i thought to myself si, bueno.
the spirit world squirmmed and came alive
like amoebas in the drink
sugar calaveras laughed in my face
it's closer than you think.
i climbed to the end of monte alban
the verde was far and wide
the pulque kicked in the journey was on
velasco was there by my side
resplendent and golden the sky
touched the earth and i lost my footing it seemed
i told the temporal world good-bye
the sun virgin burned and she beamed
"things are not as they appear
its enough that you are! just be.
you would be living except for your fear
the past is just psychic debris"
somewhere the sound of a horn exploded
and the bus it pulled away
el barracho was on sickly and loaded
but milagros were offered that day
still looking for a burning bush?
or a vapor behind the door?
i'll show you a miracle in my life
a hole in the rusted out floor
back came the pulque from inside to out
while riding with chickens and goats
bumping along on a dusty route
in a mexican town remote.