OK, this one, "A Man In Our Party."
The man in our party was the snake magnet and he said
to the gardener, cuál tipo de víbora es?
and the gardener did this.
The gardener bashes in the gorgeous triangular head
of the Fer-de-lance most venomous víbora he knows.
Ay, one bite and you're dead.
His forked stick lifts looped like a snake, draped away
from his legs.
I ask to look.
Slithers to Earth, spoiled coil, turned clay.
Hermosa, I sigh.
Mosaic scales.
Cream, black, brown.
He nods.
Hermosa y peligrosa.
Muy peligrosa.
Our guide conjures prayers, apologies.
The forked stick slings, pure danger, behind the shed.
So it's sad that what we're afraid of gets killed.
that's how it ended up.