I eat breakfast
and watch Moctezuma's
throat be slashed, the
conquest unfold,
Sor Juana at the
top/edge, encircled in
violet, her poet's
heart on fire, La
Virgen carried on a
banner, Coatlique in
disguise, her skulls
hidden under her
gentle dress, a
woman giving birth
with great IxChel's
help, as all women
are, umbilical cord
dangling from vagina,
child alive, survivor of
the conquest, I am
a survivor of the
conquest, a wild
mestiza child, my
poet's heart on
fire, I am the
dreamer, one of
thousands, Moctezuma
slaughtered, terrified of
our dreams, our visions,
now I sit, centuries
later, my dreams,
visions, memory,
intact- I see the
Great Books burning,
I weep, this I know,
dreams can't be
burned, I see
Sor Juana's
poet's heart on
fire,
as the woman's
vagina burns with
birth, IxChel singing,
"Dreamers, you have
survived, each century
your voices stronger,
sweeter, your poet's heart
unconquered, dream
new words,
new stories,
new Great Books, on
fire."
To Sor Juana's heart
*Written at Instituto Allende, San Miguel de Allende,
Mexico, while gazing at the magnificent mural of
Mexico's his/herstory, on fire, unconquered.
March 2014
Alma Luz Villanueva
(c) copyright, 2014
