Jug
Colors, we go way back.
We’re the Taíno, even now.
An arbor of climbing vines.
Petals, canary and lilac-blue.
My bohío, roofed by dry fronds.
I’m painting Obanex, a hairless dog.
As mute on this jug as in life.
Bouncy and pink, like a Spanish pig.
On this fired clay, he hunts iguanas.
Patchworks swirl, yellow and green.
He slurps from a light blue stream.
At the bottom, his throat is slit.
He’ll be roasted for a meal.
His blood spurts, circles the pot.
At the base, it’s a wavy red line.
