Quando estaba en Mexico

I found this one hiding in a file of musings and freewrites that I call "Random Shit." I thought of my friend Nessie, who was on this trip with me.

Quando estaba en Mexico

When I was in Mexico,
hell, part of me is still there,
sand in my hair,
ocean smell on my body,
drinking at the mayor’s liquor stand
with Scottie -- big red belly
hanging over his shorts
and scabby rashed shins,
drinking on his birthday
no different than any other day.

A ten-year old boy rides up on a bike,
dirty cheeks, hair in his eyes,
and holds out a package full of pictures –
inside are a granddaughter
who Scottie has never seen,
and an estranged daughter
now a mother.
It's been 12 years, he says.
I can still see his face as he grabbed
the handlebars of his large tricycle
and rode down the beach.

Think of it all like a story, Cory says,
frame each moment in words.
The chickens we wake to every morning.
The dolphins just offshore.
Maria, and the fushia flowers
trailing off her balcony.
And the yellow-bellied sea snake
Pelmis platurus
that I found lying dead on the beach.