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BRING ME THE HEAD OF PABLO NERUDA.
In a cafe in downtown taos
whre white boys named Spirit
converse with blonde tye-dyed chicks
called Rainbow
a tourist picks
hopefully
at his corn-husk tamale wrapper
refusing water
hoping to not be noticed
in the angry stare
of a real Indian/Chicano
rap-thumping truck-farmer child
he claims the chile to be far too tame.
I sat and shared a hope
in an old desperado range boy
coffee roll-a-smoke session
jotted a note.
then looked up to see the face of god.
from terror of towns.