Poems by Don Cellini (USA)
Published in Issue 40 of The Ofi Press
It’s raining rage
Abel, Carlos, Adán, Felipe, Emiliano, Carlos
Llueve rabia. It’s raining rage.
In Mexico. In Ayotzinapa.
Forty-three would-be teachers
were disappeared overnight.
Luis, Christian Tomás, José, Julio César Mondragón
was discovered the next morning
his eyes gouged out
the skin of his face
flayed to a bare skull.
Jhosivani, Tomás Marcos, Saúl, Jorge, Miguel Ángel,
The others were shot
then dumped into a burning pit
of gasoline, tires, wood, plastic.
The acrid smoke filled the night sky.
César, Jorge, José, Israel, Antonio, José Ángel
We turned them into dust and then
threw the remains in the water.
They will never find them,
one suspect bragged.
Leonel, Everardo, Doriam, Jorge, Marcial
Mexico smells like death.
Since I cannot bury you, my son,
I will continue to look for you,
sobbed the mother of
Benjamín, Christian, Luis, Miguel Ángel, Alexander
Their families
find no consolation.
They know the empty beds,
the empty chairs at the table.
Jorge, Abelardo, Cutberto, Bernardo, Israel
Breath of smoke. Mouth of ash.
Grief has become
a dark cloud of anger.
It’s raining rage.
Mauricio, Martín, Magdaleno, Giovanni, José Luis, Jesús
Llueve rabia. It’s raining rage.
http://www.lahaine.org/mundo.php/ayotzinapa-llueve-rabia
Julio César Mondragón
We turned them into dust and threw the remains in the water.
https://medium.com/@AyotzAnon/mexico-2014-b9519797da56
México huele a muerte
http://meriahdoc.tumblr.com/post/103218834110/from-top-to-bottom-mexico-smells-like-death
Don Cellini is a poet, translator and photographer. He is the translation editor for The Ofi Press.
http://doncellini.com/index.html