Seven Reasons Why Frida Kahlo Is Alive And Well In Taos

  1. Open tap: Eske’s Pub: Diego lifts
    a microbrew, dreaming a mural of you, amber
    and naked, with nine strong communists.
  2. Three porcelain dollies from Dallas try on your cape
    of midnight at a little shop, all the while watching
    out for the evil monkey you lost in 1946.
  3. Meanwhile, the child you would never have
    miracle-dances in a courtyard right of the Plaza,
    her gypsy’s skirt sewn with ribbons and veins.
  4. Pain of the iron rod weeps at the infants’
    headstones
    (back of the camposanto). Its tears grow tomatillos--
    green like your loneliness
  5. Or coral, lining the robe of la Virgen in the tiny church
    of two altars. Braids piled about her head are a volcano,
    spewing your mysterious tint of coyoacán blue.
  6. Soft road shoulder near San Cristobal, and the biker
    who resembles Dennis Hopper invites you to swing
    your leg over; fire-glow near the wheels means climb on.
  7. Looking back, the vanishing horizon beneath
    the forehead of Taos Mountain is your eyebrow:
    a single dark sunset.

(Heartlodge: Honoring the House of the Poet, 2005)