for Raúl Hernández Romero
and Homero Gómez González

Who needs a mariposa when we value
Profits over Beauty and Nature.
Why not kill all butterflies,
Grind them under our boots
Into gravity’s deepest grave.
We can’t let them pass through Purgatory.

Let’s declare a mariposa massacre,
Burn them in ovens– as they’re also God’s chosen.
Who needs a butterfly when we can pin them
Under glass and say
They were the anthologists of love,
Messengers between magic realms, flying flowers,
Living souls, sun leaves, wind riders,
They who sipped at the waters of Paradise.

I cross the Great Lakes to bring back
Your names, Raúl and Homero…,
They can’t kill the mariposa in us,
Soaring is tattooed on our souls.
We blossom into being, over and over,
To keep this earth from being Hell.