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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Comedy · #1047259
Raucous escapades south of the border.




Seeking a change, my vagabond soul led me down south of the border
to a little shanty town where people will leave you alone
as long as you are ready to lay your money down.
Lodgings cost but a pittance, and the bars serve warm beer and cheap tequila.
Of course, you can’t be picky about the boozers, misfit losers,
rusty trucks, or dirt roads that are quite dusty.

Being busted, I got a job down at Rosy’s Bar dusting
off the stock and mopping the floor, which bordered
on an even exchange since I drank up as much as the other losers.
My neighbor Jose and an old guy named Raul disliked being alone,
so they sat together playing dominoes and drinking tequila
late into the night. I don’t have any idea how many shots we put down.

Next morning, we all felt really down
so we went back to Rosy’s to wash the dust
from our throats with a few more shots of tequila.
That night I staggered and fell into the hedges bordering
Rosy’s house as I tried to make my way home alone.
Needless to say, my job was lost.

My resolute spirit wasn’t about to let that loss
get the best of me and keep me down.
There was a rich woman in a town nearby who was very lonely
because her old man had bit the dust.
I expressed my sympathies and admiration and told her I was borderline
insane over her. We celebrated our engagement with a shot of tequila.

Jose was my best man, and Raul brought the tequila
to the wedding, where no time was lost
in getting the ceremonies completed within the borders
of propriety so we could get to our downy
bed in her fine house on a dustless
road, where I vowed nevermore to leave her alone.

To my dismay, as soon as we were alone,
she started laying down restrictions, such as no more tequila,
and drove me crazy constantly cleaning with her feather duster.
I was terrified by the prospect that my freedom had been lost
and determined that she would not hold me down.
So I fled for dear life back across the border.

The moral to my tale is this: If you lose your freedom, your life might as well be dust,
so don’t go down south of the border.
Hey, you! Leave my tequila alone!

© Copyright 2005 Dave's trying to catch up (drschneider at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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