A taxi driver with a good life who has four children, a pregnant wife, and who lives in Guadalajara, drives us -- (with his radio going @3cha cha cha@1 for these gringos) on the road laid out and up and around and down the side of Lake Chapala to Tizapan. Up ahead, three burros move nervously out of the road as we swish by. I remember all we saw. Gringos going into a storm that soon ends to consider a room (as it turns out) filled with straw upstairs over a bodega. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUT NOT TO ME by SARA TEASDALE IDLENESS by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL LOCKSLEY HALL SIXTY YEARS AFTER by ALFRED TENNYSON FRIAR JEROME'S BEAUTIFUL BOOK; A.D. 1200 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH FAMILIARITY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |