The Devil Dog-heads of Peru [a poem]

They swarmed about him, the youth from the northern highlands, the Devil Sect, the jackals of Peru (in the Valley of Recuay); they dragged him into darkness, they meant to do him harm (soon they’d dismember him alive) ‘no mercy,’ would he cry--, only curses as they roasted him alive: like mutton, these devil dog-heads, now long forgotten.

The fire grew, he clinched his fists, iron hands, burned like thick wood, his eyes lighted—inside his head, as he was being cooked alive like bread.

His lungs breathless, a cloudless sky, the morning wind blew fitfully, as he died, died, died, died: everything had a charcoal tint to it, especially where his eyes did lie (outside his head, surrounded by ash), looking up—into a gray brooding sky.


Note: After borrowing, for a short time, one of the devil figurines dated about 200 BC to 800 AD, from the Valley of Recuay; the author was inspired to write this poem concerning the plight of a youth that may have sculptured this figurine, and then became its victim. #1399/7/28/2006