Issue
 #30 

April
2014


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a poem by Mather Schneider

SYRUP

She’s half Yaqui
half Huichol

reaching up
in a white summer dress

to pick mesquite pods from the tree
to boil for syrup

and my loins
lean
into the onion morning.

Later she undresses
and feigns bashfulness

showing me
her perfect brown ass

the syrup on the stove
bubbling
like a hundred forgotten
Mexican gods
hiccupping just below the surface

and I realize
right at this moment
what is happening

really
is
happening.

© by Mather Schneider
 
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #30 ~ April 2014