From the Archive: Leigh Nash (CAROUSEL 23)
LEIGH NASH
Day Trip
This day beetles forward
careening red eyelid on
a two-lane Yucatan road
110 km/h
glass eyeballs unblink
chew up scenery, plow
past the tinted windows of
white tourist vans
The most earth with no
earth, almond trees burst
from lime rock, low bushes
bear pink
avocados; dogs spill sideways
in the sun, feral
ribs thin inlets
Corrugated towns chatter
Rusty graveyards swallow
pastel crosses row, row
crumbling plaster tombs
thousand year-old stone
overgrown with lilies, bougainvillea
Waist-high girls and boys embrace
the shade of ledges
the missing teeth of door
ways, gutted windows