There are places on mountains that charge solar systems
Where the bulls waste their electrolytes
Pitch tents, tell stories about vengeful ghosts of matadors
There are margarita idiots that speak dirty Mexican and spit cinnamon into candle flames
Red capes fluttering
Like purple eyelids
History textbooks describe dumps littered with dark and light fragments of society
Pried from factories that were not named after your father
The textbooks do not
Mention
The widow
Spiders whisper gossip about prime rib and sturdy twigs
As they melt into boiling stew with celery and carrots
Iced water bathes chubby little practical jokes
That swim like bacteria through basements and rusty garden sheds
There are tribes that eat their young, and plant
Corn
That flourishes in the winter
Reindeer avoid tire tracks and experience
More visible wavelengths
Than any other known creature
But somewhere in between the crests and troughs
Are crumbs of food that have fallen
Into the jaws of invisible pests
Who practice incest, but
Remember
Are the outer edges of fractals.
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