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TEUHTLILLI Then down to brass tacks: These wan wanderers Indeed match those who skimmed our shores last year. See- Here’s my schoolyard scribbling of their looks: MOTECUHZOMA What are these? Iron pipes on lumbering wheels? TEUHTLILLI A roaring, dragon-mouthed machine of war, Whose entrails discharge hails of shooting stars. When leveled at a mountain’s rocky crags, The cliff face cracked, disgorging its rich veins, Then, splintered into chips a knotted pine. Their porters picked their teeth with the remains, Like sullied spirits in a sulfurous haze. MOTECUHZOMA What is this shambling menagerie? TEUHTLILLI Some over-magnifying strain of hound, Whose urine-yellow eyes flash sparks of flame, And lolling tongues lob down to glut for blood. MOTECUHZOMA And these? Some hybrid hash of man and stag? TEUHTLILLI No, sire, but merely stilted, toothy does That suffer men to play at pick-a-back. Their plate-wide hooves dig wells at each impress, And lofty eyes peep over the city walls. MOTECUHZOMA What is their destination? TEUHTLILLI Here, my lord. They’re full of inquiries, but send you gifts: These chokers of green glass- Quite lovely things. MOTECUHZOMA What is the subject of their questions? TEUHTLILLI You, my lord.
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Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 4:06 PM UTC
The Floral War 2:8:15-38
TEUHTLILLI Then down to brass tacks: These wan wanderers Indeed match those who skimmed our shores last year. See- Here’s my schoolyard scribbling of their looks: MOTECUHZOMA What are these? Iron pipes on lumbering wheels? TEUHTLILLI A roaring, dragon-mouthed machine of war, Whose entrails discharge hails of shooting stars. When leveled at a mountain’s rocky crags, The cliff face cracked, disgorging its rich veins, Then, splintered into chips a knotted pine. Their porters picked their teeth with the remains, Like sullied spirits in a sulfurous haze. MOTECUHZOMA What is this shambling menagerie? TEUHTLILLI Some over-magnifying strain of hound, Whose urine-yellow eyes flash sparks of flame, And lolling tongues lob down to glut for blood. MOTECUHZOMA And these? Some hybrid hash of man and stag? TEUHTLILLI No, sire, but merely stilted, toothy does That suffer men to play at pick-a-back. Their plate-wide hooves dig wells at each impress, And lofty eyes peep over the city walls. MOTECUHZOMA What is their destination? TEUHTLILLI Here, my lord. They’re full of inquiries, but send you gifts: These chokers of green glass- Quite lovely things. MOTECUHZOMA What is the subject of their questions? TEUHTLILLI You, my lord.
From my play in verse, thefloralwar.com
david-betten
Written by
david-betten
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 4:06 PM UTC
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