163. what faintly sturgeons (cont.)

the lemurs, looming, leapt between
the ancient l’s of aztec city,
lost among the bas reliefs,
the natives knuckled underneath

strong defoe scrounged a canoe,
or out-rigger, out of bamboo,
but within, there weren’t paddles,
so he returned to queztcoatl

aztec city had quickly, already,
over-reached its own city limits,
emptied into, steaming and spitting,
the ocean, stewing, inch by inch

all the while, the lemur twelve,
taught to mistrust cannibals,
had ascended far high above,
a pyramid, on the top was a

fire, freakish, a glowing light,
spilling blood, or perhaps pyrite — 
either-or was better than
the natives unrelenting dance

each — the natives, the strong defoe,
the chief, the lemurs, all took note,
the pyramid, trembling, had overflowed — 
look out, because it’s gonna blow!

suddenly, quite, they stopped infighting
(there’s nothing if not a collective crisis) — 
all of them gathered down by the shore,
and the natives un-hid their oars

out in ocean, to safety rowed,
they watched the aztec city explode,
of the island, once their home,
nothing remained but a thick of smoke

aztec cities, they come and go,
and cannibals can, or not eat you — 
as for lemurs, and strong defoe,
they didn’t make it to the next outpost

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