In
El Tambo, Peru, there is a lost folklore, lost, but not forgotten, and not
lost all that long ago, perchance three quarters of a century ago—
It is the saga of the horrendous Pishtacos,
never meant to be told!
That, alas, remains part of its history
today all the same—
A sacrilegious, sacrifice of human life,
that took place in those not so far-off day…!
Thus, I must follow the line of its full
course, whispered to me by those who have lived it, or were under its shadow,
or knew of it!
Handed down—decade to decade by word of
mouth…
Hidden between the woods, meadows, and
what is now a Hospital, and housing development, heading towards the Rio—
Was the Pishtacos habitat…! Like river
rats, they lived and died like fiends.
I was stricken speechless when I heard of this
tale told twice in, bits and pieces, yet am obliged to expose the Pishtacos, mislaid
lore.
(If you feel uneasiness with this poem,
please bypass it! It doesn’t get better, only more horrific, and specific…)
The Pishtacos, were the shadows in the
woods, who watched from the timber, those, that entered, not a hundred yards
away!
Silent in the moment. Then:
The prey, without seeing them, the
Pishtacos directly behind
—as they went leisurely, as if not
suspecting nothing, no way to throw off pursuit!
They sprang to seize them; then dragging
one foot after the other, being hampered somewhat from the fallen timber, but
not greatly, thus, took their kill, into the darkness of the thickets—
Here the timber so dense, one could nearly
be swallowed up in complete gloom—
Stretching out the body or bodies, arms
extended at their sides, no longer inhaling breaths, lying there on the ground,
an appalling grinding took place, first the guillotining, then:
They were milled and pounded and boiled
into a churn-out fat:
For creams and makeup, and soap, sold in
market places as far as Europe!
#5104/ 3-3-2016
