Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Down in Juarez I crossed Jack's bridge
over el Rio Pequeno to go look for Moriarty,
smoke tea with the vatos in their evil little dens.
But the fellaheen world turned to black steel.

“Get in,” they grunted from a darkened SUV,
three black-suited Scharzeneggers in shades,
and all was quiet in the acres of leather seats
but for a squint-eyed bandit, cussing, spitting,
spinning a pistol chamber like in that Leone flick.
“He’s the mascot; he scares the children."

"Que quiere?” I mumbled feebly.
"No Spanish, or it'll be your head on a tree."
"What are you, some kind of beatnik?"
"Oh God no."
"Good."

At Jack’s old dusty teenage bordello
one of the Schwarzeneggers leaned in.
“When we cross bay of peegs,
there vill be secret password."
"You like road trip, no?"
Suddenly they were all Russian except the bandit,
spinning his revolver, "steenking sum-beech..."
"No Tuco. Not now..."

Juarez
fruitless escape
from El Paso
thus the dream
try Los Algodones
more class
no revolvers
just fidget spinners

Thanks. Just back from El Paso. I guess some of those border vibes soaked in, especially after reading one of the local poets ... an absurd mixed-up "dream," no doubt . . . with a bit of Kerouac and even Spaghetti Eli Wallach. Kerouac had his fantasies about Mexico-- its "fellaheen" release from the oppression of industrialized culture. The "vill" is supposed to be Russian, or at least eastern European, but maybe it's too German.

wild side adventure mnazzzzz style.....oh yeah

It has the crazy of a dream yet it also is so visual, dreams are so often a move we play a part in,I would be inclined that you had this dream close to as written, enjoyed the come across it works well !

Thanks leaf & WIRED.. And thanks to a local ELP poet for the inspiration. I do dream this way more than I used to (and others too, I'm sure) -- maybe 'cause I'm older, or maybe ongoing distillations of such an explosion of "culture" and mass-mind tweaking over such a (relatively) short segment of human history. The world has gotten so much more NOISY since Jack crossed over that Mexico bridge ...

"Que quiere?” I mumbled feebly.
"No Spanish, or it'll be your head on a tree."
"What are you, some kind of beatnik?"
"Oh God no."
"Good."

yeah, it sounds spaghetti...!

Some of those "spaghetti westerns" kinda went off the edge...