blasts from Baja Mexico college bar...
hot booze loaded guitar hoops seeping through stormy throngs,
smoke trails and dog whistles breaking down choruses of laughter,
patrons positively glued to this oasis
better than returning to the dive at the border
then tune down those electric blasts
go paste your favorite Villa portrait on the wall,
yell for la cuenta over the gold toothed matchstick strikers
crouching behind secret brick dark walls where Amerika hides,
we may have walked into and found more prison camps at last
where tequila is served instead of bread, water, and tranquilizers
stutter blinking fake smiles and grab a ride-
hey, who’s getting high now?
do ya know what time the sister’s scheduled to come flyin in through this broken doorway?
hey, we want your sister!
sick of getting molested by dark bearded white trousered tourists!
hey, where’s that real feel good?
where’s that cross-eyed bartender with the goods?
when’s that promised romantic night?
anyway, better tell me bout the jail scene:
slapped inside a cold room cell”
"3 days still in jail, this a true story now man,
“hocked my surfboard in time to scribble this down…see, here’s my ticket of verification…”
Multa: para infracion al bando de policia y buen gobierno…”
"please don’t kick down the gate when you leave"
where my income tax return lay glowing in the bus locker,
1974, Hussongs, Ensenada, Mexico