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...THE MEASURE OF THE YEAR by JAMES GALVIN INEVITABLY (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: DOMESDAY BOOK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALONZO CHURCHILL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JACOB GODBEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS NORTH WIND TO DUTIFUL BEAST MIDWAY BETWEEN DIAL & FOOT OF GARDEN CLOCK by MARIANNE MOORE |