Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Lunch In The Market

The snowbirds have migrated
back to Snowville...just us true
defectors mingling amongst
Mexicans, that will let us live
if we don't smack our lips too

The ones 'been up all night,
clinging to doorways drunk...
children in the Zocallo, gleefully
safe, enjoying childhood....
Bob, the token gringo trailer trash,
hanging at the coffee house.

I don't put up much with people
anymore, if they get too close
and start saying what they think.

If I think they're wrong, trying to
correct them is a waste of hot air.

A lot of young ones don't know 
much, but they have that excuse.
The good news is if they're trying
to learn on their own, make mistakes, 
and won't be told what to do.

So, not much cause to speak; the
truth and lies out on the golden
internet screen...one can find the 
truth...you can find the truth there,
if you nave more than oatmeal
between your ears.

Writing differs from conversation
because no back talk and freedom
of choice...so, maybe it's better if
you read my words and don't get
too close.


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