Jesus in Mexico, flesh always caught in a fence of thorns, always gaunt-hollow and bleeding. He is tattered in torn purple, crawling to you, beseeching you with upturned claws. You swerve to avoid the lepers and the limbless in the same posture outside of the church, again to duck the old women hawking rosaries and matches. In Taxco, you dodge the throngs in chains and flames, strange rites of un/holy sadomasochism. Maybe we are all penitents, burdened by blackberry brambles, stooped in the searing sun. Maybe we are all bloody angels, festering paws bandaged, ambling to rise up, knock our crutches to the floor. In the cemetery at the south of the city, I come across an altar of bones. There are flies and ivy weaving through the empty sockets of somebody’s skull, there are marigolds scattered over the rest of us like coins.
Lorette C. Luzajic is the founder and editor of The Ekphrastic Review, a literary journal devoted to writing inspired by art. Her creative writing has appeared in hundreds of print and online publications and numerous anthologies. She has been nominated three times for the Pushcart Prize, twice for Best of the Net, and is the first place winner of a story contest at MacQueen’s Quinterly. Her most recent of five books of poetry is Pretty Time Machine: ekphrastic prose poems. Lorette is also an award-winning artist whose collage-paintings have been collected in over 25 countries. Visit her at https://www.mixedupmedia.ca.