burning black and gray wood

 

the green ink line

signifies

the

ocean

 

or about Mexican judges and Mexican justice

 

they want to appear to

look the other way

or right at you

it turning out to be their meaning and their inched nation, I

 

in a cheap black Ford

although that’s all I wish to embellish about the matter

which may yet be pending

 

scoring holes in ink

in straight lined paper

 

one can convert dollars for dimes

in an incontrovertible country where

 

and the stone mud huts and the itchy spiders

and long tall hotels, some pink and some gold

and a woman or an old woman

the sky blossoms like Mexican wheat

 

What’s Your Name Gringo?

 

you wake up after drinking coffee

everything is as it is, at a pitched slant

seen as though through the slat of a box

Mexico; a red white green box

no latches no labels