Friday, August 21, 2009

Crossing the line



The border guard said, "How long have you been in Mexico?"
I said, "What month is it?"
"August."
"Since January. Or so."
"Seven months?"
"I guess."
"What were you doing down there?"
I thought for a long time and said, "Baby, I was all over the map down there. Partying, crying , laughing, playing guitar, losing my mind and finding it again."
She thought and said, "Go on through. Welcome to America."

Death's Hand Has A Cold Touch

But at the same time it is welcoming and soothing. You will not be judged. The reason one eye is closed is that a strand of hair, not just an eyelash, had wrapped itself around my eye. Not like, a little bit around, but all the way around my eyeball to where it vanished into the recesses of my skull on both the top and the bottom of the eye. removing that while vomiting and shitting into a togo container and spitting into a cup and sweating in the 110 degree heat was my final passage out of the womb. What happens after this is all my fault. No one else is to blame.

En Memorium

Not quite, but there were several days when Marco man in the van thought he was done for. If he had any possessions worth giving up then he would have bequeathed them all to Nick's mom. It was hit or miss, puking and shitting on a dirt road in rural mexico, trying to get to the border. There are dozens of crosses along the way where people didn't make it. Would he be one of them?

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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.