takeoff from mex

when that tunnel forms down the center of my tired eyes,

the fantastic miniatures are replaced by the painted advertisements

of calzada de tlalpan,

black letters on yellow.

gravity dissolves and the painted tunnel gives way

to gray blocks on the valley floor,

early morning haze—

barren hills, why do you break my heart?

why does a green and brown quilt,

rimmed by volcanoes and unfathomable small bright stacks

of human life,

churn me in ways that only the deepest parts

of a brain

should understand?

03.22.10