Gringo Loco
Quick’s
sister-in-law in Mexico
City
found out he loved coffee,
so
she went to her pantry and got
him
a bag of special beans from
Chiapas,
the coffee was very old
and
weak, 20 years later she came
to
the U.S. for the first time to
Visit,
Quick gave her a roll
of
toilet paper and a tube of
toothpaste,
his wife and her
sister
were not amused
When
Quick went south again,
they
bought tacos from a taqueria,
there
were 2 tortillas wrapped
around
the meat, they asked
How
he liked them, he said
great
except the meatless ones
needed
more salt and salsa and
he’d rather eat goat sphincter.
Set
fire to your nightmares, Quick sang,
this
one’s called Ode to Marywanna or
Death
is a Fickle Bitch from Tucumcari
When
in doubt trust your heart and don’t
pet
the jackalope, she’s a big bad wolf, a
Comanche
on the path of a moonquake
A
bullet proof poet with a speed of light
mouth,
Quick was a hammerhead shark,
if
he quit moving he’d die swiftly.
Sorcery
and witchery still flourishes
people
need protection, salt strewn
around
an encampment helps ward
Off
demon attacks, corn meal mixed
with
gall of an eagle, bear, mountain
lion,
or skunk is potent medicine
Witches
live along the Rio Grande,
they
steal Mexican sheep and cause
death,
beware of shape shifters
Brown
and grey corn known as maiz
de
brujeria should be avoided, healing
elixers
are mercury, Gonzalez herb,
guayuli, and powdered turquoise.
Nasty
Jack was a grease ball biker
from
near the Mexican border, he
got
his name from his Levis being
so
stiff, he could stand them up in
the
corner awaiting his reentrance
He
was always working on Indians
and
Harley Davidsons, occasionally
he
applied his magic to four wheel ve-
hicles,
but he preferred the freedom
of
riding in the wind, unless he was
Pulling
a big shoplifting job requiring
a
crew to cart away the stolen goodies,
his
hands were invisible fast, I worked
with
him a few times as a distraction
man
or driver, Jack knew no fear
I’d
entered stores with him and never
seen
anything, outside he’d unload
eight
huge Porterhouse steaks, three
bottles
of Heinz 57 and he’d grab a
rack
of fifty packs of Marlboros
Situated
right in front of the checker,
he
once walked away with two dollies
of
booze, one had nine cases of Corona
and
the other had top shelf tequila and gin
We
never knew what Jack would show
up
with next, but he never came home
empty
handed, he wrote note goodbye and
said
forget about being thieves, he was going
fishing
at Boca Chica where the Rio Grande
flowed
into the Gulf of Mexico.
Catfish McDaris has been in many magazines, books, and broadsides. He’s a 30-year small press and 3-year Army artillery veteran, from Albuquerque and Milwaukee. He works in a wig store in a dangerous neighbourhood. Second day on the job, a lady dropped her purse and a loaded 357 not of safe rolled out on the floor.
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