"Twelve Gates to the City"
SONORA, 5 August 1997
For seven dollars an hour
lead travelers through the
Caverns of Sonora, three miles,
Many paths, many directions, all of them
Five groups per day,
days a week. There is
A legend of a beast who lives
the caverns. Iím told
receive a bonus if I
Ever find it and slay it with a camera.
Without sunlight, the light of
The Christ illuminates our journey
And the course seems charted. My
Headache dissipates and the caverns
Of my mind fill with warm scents
Of palm oil, of figs, of mint,
cinnamon. When the tour
we come to the surface.
, we pass the cup and thirteen
from it. As above, so below.
When the vehicles of the travelers
down, they have no choice but
stop here. The train made its
Last stop in 1977. A raven makes
home above the abandoned station, waiting