for Fátima Cecilia Aldrighett Antón
Brighter than the sun, Fatima,
Exposing everyone.
For a child to suffer such a death
Must be any father’s outrage.
Where are the men?
Have we all become monsters?
And you, little miracle of the sun,
And you, little Fatima,
Brighter than the sun
Expose everyone.
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.
Today you are a murdered butterfly,
Like flower petals in the wind,
Each one falling to earth like something rare.
Today you are a murdered butterfly,
Your scales are like gold dust.
Black rain in black hearts.
Today you are a murdered butterfly.
Even Malverde is unmasked
By what the butterfly can see:
Twelve thousand suns and moons.
Twelve thousand skies and forests
And twelve thousand murderers…
Today you are a murdered butterfly,
Your migration will take you far
Beyond the fallen earth, Homero.
Salvatore Ala 