I
Among twenty sabal palms,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of Tony Martinez.
II
He was of three minds,
Like an ebano tree
In which there are three lagartijos sarnosos
III
Martinez whirled in the southeast trade winds.
And he was a small part of the pantomina
IV
Martinez and a woman
Are one.
Martinez, a woman, and a shady real estate deal
Are one.
V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
Martinez ripping off the public
Or just after.
VI
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of Tone Martinez
Crossed it, to and fro.
The mood
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable ethics code
VII
O thin men of Las Prietas
Why do you imagine trips to Mars?
Do you not see how the urracas
Walk around the feet
Of the rucas about you?
VIII
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That Jason Hilts and Martinez are involved
In what I know.
IX
When Martinez flew out of sight to Medellin
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.
X
At the sight of Martinez
Caught in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Gritaban sharply
Aguas con la lana, Guey!
XI
He rode over Southmost
In a glass ranfla.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his money bags
For black urracas
XII
El Rio Bravo is moving.
Tony Martinez must be scheming
XIII
It was evening toda la tarde
It was blowing
And it was going to blow.
Martinez sat salivating
In the mesquite limbs.