Wet crew

A Mexican huarache band twanged a zing zang
Round our table
My girl sat spinning tiny umbrellas in tune
With the zune of the loom
While my fingers danced tinkling twinkling
Stramm strumming about the hum drum
Of the day
Virgin beers and Mexican queers
With all their lusty leers and hash ‘tween their teeth
Proprietors of sloth like desires
Twanging a song in the US of A’s new metric
Language that has overtaken our land
With a wad of peso’s in one hand
Maybe a buck or two–
with backs ready to be broken
Dreaming of America’s tokens
Their shallow dreams resemble
Those of a king with all his riches
Especially if they have some of our white
Bitches–so in love with you my wetback crew–
Taking a lean back in my chair I run my
Fingers through my girls hair
She grins
While my eyes are perched on the fake smiles of
The huarache gang
That waits for a penny
I spat
Look at that I aint got no gold teeth for you to lift
I aint got no dime tah spare
All I got is my ladies hair that hangs in my face
Like a jungle boogie
So in love with you my wetback crew—
I aint happy or sad
I aint mad or glad
I am just chilling in good times or bad
Happy or sad
Wondering if my people will wake up
And see what I see
This land  of red white and blue
Is tattered and blue
So blue so blue
Does it really matter
Are we all together?
Not in these times of hot humid Mexican weather
So I will sit here while they stram strumm
To the hum drum of this day
Dreaming of the night when I lay
My lady down
Thinking they can still dance around with those
Fake grins and dirty skins
Lopsided sombrero’s American deniro
Singing songs of their lonesome town
Wanting to buy a dream or two
With the pennies I don’t have to spare
that’s the price we pay
When we listen to the songs of lonesome towns
In the heart of America’s crown.

~ by beingjohnsweet on May 9, 2008.