What with the sobs? You crying Cat? I said.
Can it be all that bad?
Catarino would let it out, in his own time and way
I knew it would be bursting forth
As poetic lightning, sculpted thunder or just as tirades of inebriate thunder fart?
He replied: “You just know sometimes it gets to be too much
I think we’ve had it too good, it’s never gonna be good enough like it was once
He wasn’t no fancy prophet to apprise that the rumble and the roar
The shaking and the rattling must lead to something more
Yet he knew there’s death down on the tracks 2 miles long and black
And it aint turning back
Like it had ever done before
Pay your toll compadre for the right to roll ‘
Across the ways that once were free for mi carrucha
Was of the people you and me. Tu sabes! la gente!
You member! Hey people don’t membeer shit no more…
They drain bramaged.And not from the good stuff
La mota y cerveza. The good high times ese!
But the stuff they give you to eat make you puke
Puro plastico, man sometimes the dog won’t eat what the fat chicks will
And sabes que lambiscon es ese perro chingoa
Whatever he can reach he gives it a big fat slurp
Not to mention the recession, depression and repression
Out of work, out of luck, no money and in la bota for child support
56 Freaking years should buy me some respect
But when I go to the Wal Marts this robo chic wants to see my Id
And I was looking messed up to! I tell her I don’t want her la de da Boones Farm Sangria Wine
An I tole her what she could do with the bottle too
I could tell that her panocha hadn’t had any macho nacho for a long time
She was draggin dude!
otra cosa mas
I think they f up my kid with the fnng shots
Pobre chulito I’d sneak into the projects to see his mama
(I couldn’t stay you know, the repression thing)
he would laugh and laugh cuando yo toque la guittara
Man he wanted to play soooo bad
I was going to teach him a lot of good stuff!!
None of the bad stuff, just good stuff
But the school said he needed shots
They gave him some extras too
The fuckers lost the records
And mama was tooooooo ignorant
Let those culeros worse than kill my son
These other mexicans they do what they’rre told
Lots of head nodding and shuffling
But not me. So who’s the pendejo here?
Well I have been to jail a few times y que?
I do got some pride
Now mi Juanito El Chulito de Daddy sits all day and nods and sways
No puede aguantar que le tocan, He never cries but I do
Todos los parientes want him know. You know, you member
He aint nothing but a paycheck for them fuckers
Thanks to huele feo, the welfare gang.
Mi hermoso nino de donde fue?
You know I went to college and I know some shit
When I grew up the man did’nt hide his hand
And smile in your face
At least you knew where you stood
Now it’s all changed
Open it up they want to shut it down
Speak your mind they pretend to listen
Si, les ponen la cara buena, but you can hear las risas
As they close the door behind your ass
Las Viboras Cascabel, at least they give you a warning
Not these frrrrs
The viejos speak the truth
You get too old to lie…..
And there he left off
The six pack was gone and he set off on the ant trail over the tracks
I gave him enought for a good meal or two six packs (whatever came first).
I had to get going
His story was changing and re-arranging
Though not for the better
He was starting to suspect a lot of what I know
Someday there’ll be hell to pay
One way or the other
Can’t say when, don’t know how
But there always comes a day
Born in Houston, Texas and moved to Raymondvile, Texas in 1969. Family bought a radio station and helped with the family business until it was sold in 1997. Since then started an agency and mostly writes about experiences in Deep South Texas. Writers of the Rio Grande founder, editor and contributing author.