EL CARMOSO
I wanted to tell you about this:
The riot down by the waterworks;
fifteen hundred people with candles,
screaming for some sort of justice, and
the police on horseback riding through.
They split skulls with mallets, smashed
people in the face with their hard-rubber
truncheons, ran down children in the way.
A sort of dismal, nightmare carnival of
twisted faces and bloodied heads. The
entire town square of El Carmoso, later
that night, filled with people screaming
- all over again - for justice once more.
Was it all to be the same? Justice? Revenge?
You know, squalor has many companions, and
the dead are mourned for only so long.
-
I came upon this story in the
Mexico City Journal, buried
deep on page 24. Nearby, there
were a few ads for mortuaries and
embalmers and mourners for hire.
What kind of world is this, when such
curiosities are to what we aspire?
No comments:
Post a Comment