Champagne cenote, minnows frolic
streams of bubbles rise
fishlips nibble tiny morsels
sandwiched ham and cheese.
On the edge they sit, the tourists
listening to their ghetto blaster
tuned to the max, acid hip-hop
Jeffrey, Dawn, Jane and Peter.
Signals come from distant pulsars
calling to their stoic subjects
dark obsidian-daggered people,
long extinct their bloody sects.
Minnows frolic, sandwich-sated,
in the golden shafts of light
glad that tourists come more often
than winged serpent's tasty bites.
Eyeless sockets gaze at minnows
gaze at tourists, unaware.
Rest in peace you ageless virgins
skeins of tangled jet-black hair.
Now the ball court beckons, and
taking out his brightly beach ball
Jeffrey hollers 'kickabout'.
Sacrilege in ancient halls.
Foot drawn back to kick for goal
Jeffrey freezes in his stride
hearing distant pulsars echo
nowhere now to run and hide
From the ballcourt to the temple
Mayans took them to the altar.
Two by two, boys and girls,
virgins for the knife that sunders.
Ruby red replaces ham
as the heads begin to sink
minnows frolic, buffet lunches,
stains on stones, lovely pink.
Kukulcan sits and listens
to those tunes from distant pulsars
watches, as the wheel of life