by Abby Caplin
in 1923, guitarist, composer, and poet Agustín Barrios underwent cosmetic surgery to become Nitsuga Mangoré
Sometimes you must submit
to the knife carve
your face pare it
down and build it up
to find yourself
Guaraní shaman
reclaiming lineage without
anesthesia and before
antibiotics some say it was
midlife crisis that crazed you
though you spoke your chosen
name at age twelve
pulling off agustín like the skin
of a sock the brand’s stitching
in reverse reading
nitsuga you had to wait years
before you packed
concert halls from Buenos
Aires to Caracas ridiculed
when you appeared onstage
topless in headdress
your bearing noble as
the crested caracara winged
messenger of the gods
when you sat to perform laughter
died as the tidal pull
of your guitar’s steel strings
six silver moonbeams lit up
the public descendants
of mixed Guaraní and Spanish
heritage your Paraguayan-
infused folk and birdsong
music calling them
through the doorway
of return passage
to themselves