Most foreign folks easily take a shine to the Mexican way of honoring the dead through all sort of colorful and quirky customs tied in with Dia de Muertos holiday.

But those lacking a strong command of Spanish, along with a firm grasp on current events and social phenomena will find it hard to appreciate the seasonal composition of calaveras literarias (literary skulls).

These satirical poems are written to poke fun at living friends, politicians and celebrities, pointing to incidents and personal foibles that single them out for imagined selection by the Grim Reaper. Expressed in short verses, the authors often employ black humor, inside jokes, double entendre, endless Spanish euphemisms for death and phrases referring to contemporary trends to mock the chosen subject.

Around November 2, calaveras appear in the printed press, electronic media and on social networks, showing off the deep sense of wit and clever play on words that seem innate to clever Mexican minds.  They are commonly accompanied by light-hearted illustrations of skulls and skeletons allusive to the occasion.

Calaveras originally derive from the Danse Macabre, the allegorical plays of medieval Europe that addressed the universality of Death. The illustrated poetic form emerged in Colonial Mexico as a benign manner of lancing barbs at the powers that be.  The modern calavera was popularized during the Revolution era by renowned graphic artist José Guadalupe Posada.

Calaveras defy translation. One has to understand the language and nuances to get them. So here are three of my own mediocre stabs at politicians of today, written in my native tongue.  

Old baldy turned up in Chapala 

The hip and trendy tourist town

Where he found Javier Degollado

Proudly strolling the Malecón 

Come with me, said the specter, 

Let’s tour your new bridge

and visit the old railway station.

Then you’ll go six feet under 

To be rescued by your last transformation.

......

Hillary thought she’d bagged the election

With a quick tongue in the TV debates.

The Grim Reaper dashed her White House hopes,

Tracking her down in the battleground states.

Now she’s out of the race, gone to the grave 

Bones resting beneath Wall Street speeches, 

an acid-washed server, pay-to-play schemes, 

and more scandalous Wiki-leak secrets.  

…...

Lady Death was dressed up to kill

As she set off on the campaign stump

She emerged from the crowd at a Florida rally

To put her grip on Donald J. Trump. 

Checking out her slim figure with a gleam in his eye

He beckoned, “Come honey, I’ll give you a kiss.”

Wagging a bony finger at the pertinent guy

She moved in close and replied with hiss,

“I know you have fame and plenty of wealth,

But you’d best keep your hands to yourself!”