Jojutla, Morelos. (English)

They said to us
"Nothing happened here.
There are no monuments,
No museums
Just a market,
And nothing else."

Tourist curiosity
And the stress of having nothing to do.
$2 for a parking spot,
And three blocks under the sun.

Three blocks in which we noticed
That there are monuments, indeed.
Empty lots of land and fallen fences,
Cracked walls, missing houses.

The road is under construction,
The flowers dry by the rubble.

There are no museums,
But there's a family living in an empty lot
Where their house used to be, now they're in a
Tent.
Blue, like the sky above their heads.
Blue, like water.
Blue, like tranquility.
Blue, like the only thing they have.
Blue, like what they lack.

There are no monuments,
But there are rocks and bricks scattered
Over the cracked pavement.

When something important happens,
Someone puts up a plaque.
Someone builds a museum.
Someone plans a memorial.
Something always gets left behind.

Something happened here,
But what's left of it
Is that there's nothing left.