catch me in the drummer's car
tappin out Norteño music
inside partial harmonies,
or stragglin by some corner Naco laundromat
wishin for never-too-late pass-slides,
scribbled on some black hemp flag
well disguised as ripe parsley boxes,
good protein source to run on
one more fine other night
singin Sonoran blues,
southwest time
and when that jam plays out
tis surely better to dive off the next cliff,
soft float,
tis better to swoop down
never mind a pretended kiss
to stand me up still
absolutely frozen stiff
yes Maria, in your package box you were right all along-
there's a simple chorus of laughin
separating how we perceive
when shot straight through our hearts,
well past the border guards,
well beyond the burned out cowboy cantinas and mustached haciendas
9/12/73
Naco, Sonora