Sueño #4

GEOGRAFÍA CON MINGUS


     I
At sunrise
where the Ganges currents
calmingly call out
this sable phoenix
out of the floating honey suckle
of memories
so that no blind sparrows
struggle to find
the cloud-shadowed sea
as they yearn to
dip the tip of their wings
into the blue-cool river rift
his strumming still awkens us
late
into our midnight's passing.



     II
In the silk dark mountains
of Cuerna Vaca
a glittered jade
is sprinkled by huming birds
into the underground of its 
palm-leafed jungle
so that Mingus, ever the Emperor
of his dynasty
ever the Baron of sounds
walks only on emerald ground
     Says the humming
          -HI   DE        HO-
BIRD
VATO DESERVES THAT MUCH.



     III
The pulp-beaten bases
confess the highs and lows
of being played
into the realm of royal subjects.
Regal sounds begin to blare
and drip their melody
 into our clear air.
And, the melodic chatter
of sliding octaves
     -BOMB-    SPIN      -BLAST
the blazing harmony and a million
happy moons appear in our sky
to look at the rainbow-petaled
blossoms of our land
And, I can hear Mingus say
"Let my children hear Music, Music"



     IV
Mingus,
     Desaparecistes
Mi alma busca
     esos        ritmos
¿Dónde
      los
           escondistes?



     V
Bachita,
     La curandera
held the crushed yerba buena
to sprinkle over her
copal hazed room
and saw those
silver fingers of his
begin to dazzle
(struggle alive)
and play an invisible bass


     VI

You must have looked into
the phosphorus flame breath
of Tonatiuh
your eyes immovable
like a Xiximeca child
engulfed by the rising
pyramids of Teotihuacán.
You must have seen the peak
of this granite temple.
had to climb away from the wheelchair
climbed obsidian and malachite steps
to reach one immaculate last crescendo
and shouted
"Let my children hear music, music, music."