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From a Mexican ArchiveSimon Carnell
Vol. 22 No. 1 · 6 January 2000

From a Mexican Archive

Simon Carnell

192 words

A downtown storefront window containing only a single giant plastic ear.


In a San Ángel garden: the four-inch-long orange potato bug called face of a child.


Ancient evil in a 400-year-old wall? Its nest of black widows.


Still standing in a busy street: a ’quake-damaged high-rise abandoned in eighty-five.


Woven from lake-grown reeds at Tzintzuntzan: grasshoppers, bulls, turtles, scorpions.


The cryptic spiral on a pyramid stone, and high in a baroque church on a reused one.


Rough-hewn planks of cedar flooring that gives. A church at noon, fragrance of cedar.


Underground, Mexico DF: from Zapata to Indios Verdes via Etiopía, Juárez, Hidalgo.


Colibrís the size of field-mice hovering to sip from fuchsia flowers as big as pine-cones.


At Chapultepec a stone chapulín; on Insurgentes table-top dancing at Caligula’s.


Sawdust on a library floor; a gory mural by Juan O’Gorman; children in pews.


A painted constellation of archangels at Tupátaro, survivors of the Cristero war.


In museum pieces (and sometimes on a leash): the hairless edible dogs of Colima.


The engine cut above DF on a night flight: a carpet of lights stretching to every horizon.

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