Those who cried and could not stop, those ones whose bones would not stop aching, gums stop rotting, children given life merely to be receptacles for misery, these ones the god most favored. From their mothers’ limp, indifferent arms, the priests grasped and adorned them: paints of blue and green and herons’ feathers made them little gods who shook and sobbed. And if no tears will come, tear the soft flesh, peel back the nail—Tlaloc must have his rain. Into the depths, my dear ones—be content to know beyond your years the life divine. Your tender pelts will shelter us. The corn that sprouts from you shall feed us. Be reborn.
Elijah Perseus Blumov is a poet and the host of the poetry analysis podcast Versecraft, produced in partnership with the Ohio Poetry Association. His work has been published or is forthcoming in periodicals such as Literary Matters, THINK Journal, Modern Age, and The Alabama Literary Review. He lives in Cleveland, Ohio.
You can find Versecraft, the most in-depth show for poetry analysis on air, wherever you get your podcasts and at versecraft.buzzsprout.com