package boxes

catch me in the drummer's car

tappin out Norteño music

inside part harmony,

or stragglin by a 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 again,

one more fine other night

singin the Sonoran blues,

southwest time

when the 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

Maria, in your package boxes you were right all along-

a simple chorus of laughin

separates how we perceive things

when shot straight on through,

past the border guards,

well beyond the burned out cowboy cantinas and haciendas

9/12/73