They all come for the celebration. Dead
And undead alike. Their wild-eyed mask
Adorning skeletons. Eating and drinking
For the return of the dead. Death
Is all around. The isle of Janitzio crouches
InLakePatzcuaro. The cemetery
With flickering votives and
Exotic flowers is more alive than dead. A
Thousand candles like a constellation fallen
From the sky lights a graveyard filled
With ghosts who eat the living and return
As the mummies of Guanajuato. Stacked
Against walls these unearthed corpuses
Remind us of the city of the dead and that
We are all mere groundskeepers for the funeral procession.
