Poem For Mario

Cunning linguist,

nice little doggies,

all survived the trip

to Gringolandia.

Transmission trouble

of car and body better 

now..."how many more 

miles can I put on this 

sucker?"

Sixteen in spirit, a good

coming of age, back to

childhood, one way or

another.

I wish I knew all the 

languages you do so I 

could curse in them;

"Paltoquet! Etourdi!"

my French teacher in

high school wouldn't tell

me any good ones.

i want to curse the world,

not that I don't love it, but

it seems, now, humanity

could use a good tongue

lashing.

Mi amigo, my Master debater,

we are in Tepoztlan, lucky us,

the front row of the theatre of 

the world, eating popcorn while

we watch the absurd tamasha

of monkeys running amok....

Salud!