Lounge chair, Chacala, Mexico…seventy five out…mid February afternoon

This morning, tea on the back patio

Facing east

A young Mexican wandered through the jungle

Just past the patio

didn’t look up at me

As I stared at him

My gringo mind wondered who he is

what he’s doing here – my only two thoughts

 gardener or thief, gated community

 

Later, Karla gave us a tour of our house

“I should tell you there are some boas, but they mostly

            come out in the rainy season.

And we fumigate, but if you see a scorpion,

            smash it with your shoe.”

 

Two birds make a world-class ruckus

palm tree, jungle side of the patio

no bigger than a squawking jay up north.

 

I peruse the border – patio/jungle

think about two angry emails

responding to my letter about a proposed park

One accused me of not being principled enough to fight for

            a permanent solution

The other for going to Mexico and expecting those

            back home to fight a battle for me

 

The jungle…the patio

Lake Padden…Chacala

Estados Unidos…Native People

Mountains of things…Planet Earth

​

We walk into town

Mix with the locals

Tourism is down a third

The economy…violence

 

I think of the Presidential Primaries back home

Watch the heart taken out of a beautiful thing

Watch greed fed by anger fed by inequality

 

See solutions sink in quicksand

faces of Presidents all over it.