To recap,
I prayed to St. Guadalupe in Family Dollar.
She sent Mary Magdalene from Cuba.
Mary Magdalene met me at Agway
and gave me a tortoiseshell cat,
Carlita.
My dog Nina wants to crucify Carlita,
even they both speak Spanish,
and you’d think that would
count for something.
Meanwhile, in the dark of an ordinary
night, the dead man showed me rays
of golden light passing through
the face of a Magritte man
in a bowler hat.
This week I found the man in the hat,
hanging on floral wallpaper, with a
penciled Jesus admiring his bowler.
Saint Guadalupe tells me that
Jesus always did appreciate
a good hat, and I am inclined
to believe her.
The dead man, who wants to sell me his son,
is still speaking to me, loud and dear.
Yesterday, the dead man’s wife
spoke the words I knew she would:
Afraid. Bowl. Water.
She filled Nina’s bowl with water, and I was
the one who was,
momentarily,
afraid.
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