And...

And
And when I was younger
I dreamt of you
Clad in your
Transcending nakedness
And I would awake aching

And now if I dream
Of you
I see your startling blue eyes
We talk and we talk and we talk
Until I awake

For Montezuma

In 1492...

Columbus?

Cortes?

A curse upon all of them pox ridden psychopathic bastards,

Cold stone shadows cast long over the red spattered past,

At least Custer got it up the arse.

(In the style of Richard Brautigan)