i heard
a man was murdered
yesterday afternoon
at pollo campero
(the guatemalan KFC)
mere blocks from my new home
it was appparently a hit
aim, shoot, drive away never to be caught
except by the killer's own conscience
should he have one
the victim drove a BMW
he might have been a drug dealer
i guess it doesn't matter
i sent him a prayer last night
as i cooked my first meal on our new stove
until that moment
having opted not to seek out local news
i'd tried to hope that maybe
no one had been killed since my arrival
that my good karma had obliterated violent crime
miraculously
it was a silly notion
i didn't really believe it
i haven't a clue about anything
indigenous mayan oppression eons old
scandals and mafias and blood and bulletholes
meanwhile, here i dwell in my cushy new abode
buying kitchen gadgets and laundry detergent
spending quetzales like monopoly money
ever connected to my beloveds via the world wide web
marveling at the trees and tropical flora
buenas, buenas! everyone says
and smiles wide
perhaps the prospect of imminent, random death
makes one appreciate each moment that much more
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