[i]
Juan kept
his eye on
the target
through dirt
& dust
dos Chilangos
taking a stroll
down
San Pablo
dressed
in black
two shadows
dance
in plinths
of sunlight
their pace
increasing
almost as if
they sense
danger
& then
the gunshot
sings--
her hollow
end-note
[ii]
Miguel mi
hermano
his face
blown wide
like the head
of a dark
-red Dahlia
& just before
the shot
sunlight
fell between
balustrades
catching
his eyes
I smile
holding
the moment
a tiny nugget
of gold
in the filth
of Mexico
I like the unfolding of meaning/story in this poem. The internal consonal work sounds great. Joseph Hargraves
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