In Honor Of Bad Poetry On the bus there was a thief Looking for a gun Across from him there was a dude Nodding in the sun I just sat and tried to hide A gringo on a long long ride Trying to get to the other side Desperate as the road was wide. They say that Mexico hasn’t changed Everywhere we’re all the same You take your chances You stake your claim But on that bus when the sun went down 2QH©ORQHVRPH©JULQJR©KDG©½QDOO\©IRXQG© The toll road was a price too dear When alone with a gringo’s fear Of capture in another land By a hungry heart And an angry hand. 7KH©IURQWLHU´V©WUDI½F© Disembark Join the line and keep your place A serious business wears a serious face Don’t play games with the border guards Crossing used to be easy Now its way way hard. And across at last Take a breath Another escape from imagined death The romantics vision almost gone Of the wondrous Mexico Sung in song I’ll love this place till the day I die The danger and freedom All the way to the sky But who yearns for the boredom That order brings. 7KH©½UH©FRQWDLQHG© ,Q©D©½UH©ULQJ ©
By William Franklin
64
El Ojo del Lago / January 2014