These Shoes Were Made for End Times

Two poems by Alyza Taguilaso

These Shoes Were Made for End Times

Demonic Possession Secondary to Femoral Fracture

No one is allowed to speak
of the dictator’s wife
in ways not flattering. This information was procured
by our best agents and shoe-shine boys. How, in the mid-seventies, she fell
and fractured her right hip – only slightly so – non-
displaced, the orthopedic surgeon called it, needing
no direct intervention. But causing enough crack
of bone that the devil himself managed to sneak in – tendrils
and black soup, mixing itself with her marrow. How else
do you explain all the atrocities committed hereafter?
All those bare-footed workers buried alive
in scaffolding as though in sacrifice to some hungry creature
and its three-thousand feet. Steadfast in making its way
to hell. Even the ghosts refuse to whisper
through their concrete coffins.

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