Just a sec. Let me finish.
April saw me lose
My mojo, limping, bent over 45 degrees sideways,
Zig-zagging away along the Caminho Portugues.
Jinxed, I berated myself as the weakest and the slowest, but
Aimed for a cure, visiting
“Magical Botánica of East Harlem.”
Zeal and faith saved me.
January saw me straining to be
Able to conjure away
Malas Influencias.
Zest for life re-surging.
“James es su nombre, no?
¡Ay! Whose inheritance
Must you have stolen?
Zeke’s? It is the curse of Esau. Theft is written on the lines of your face.”
James was my father’s name too!
“¡Ay, Caramba!
Madre de Dios. Wear a green scarf.
Zone in on a statue of St. Jude.”
Just a sec! Something is pulling me down again.
Eso no es muy católico.
Mumbo-jumbo fades. James, Santiago himself, pulses like an invisible wave–
Zowie!– lifting up my chest with oceanic joy.
