Free verse № 58328
Border Crashing
A chalupa in my right hand, a
Corona in the left one, and streaks
Of Jose Cuervo Gold soaked my esophagus and
The shag seat of my vintage VW 'bug'.
I sped down the road at 120 mph, my knee
Barely held the steering wheel in place
As it shook uncontrollably, while I chomped
On my beef chalupa and chased it down with
Lime-less Corona.
I saw the border crossing of San Ysidro
In the distance.
The chalupa is finished. The fiesta colored
Wrapping can now be used to by migrants
To wipe their asses by the yellow illegal immigrant
Signs along the highway.
A golden shower
Of piss in a bottle
Splashed against the plastic window of the Mexican immigration official
As the Beetle crashed through the flimsy
Gates of San Ysidro. I lost control and
Ran over four foot women who begged for pesos and dreamed about dollars.
The hood was dented by the peddler, wearing the sombrero,
Who held the wooden model ship that
Flew through the Windshield
And into my head.
We are back.
5 comments
shit like this happens when you write drunk...
but no he's not illegally immigrating to mexico. he just happens to crash through the border crossing.
this poem sucks ass by the way. i'm going to delete it later.
Then drive to Mexico; the same thing'll happen to you. Promise.
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