| Miercoles, 27 Agosto |
| Tijuana, Baja California |
| by Daniel Charles Thomas |
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| email: tijuanagringo@yahoo.com |
| Copyright 2003 Daniel Charles Thomas |
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| in Teotijuanacan where the gods were made. |
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| Walking the streets. |
| Oh yes the city is strange and wonderful and like a weird L.A. who went to Mexico City and then came home to California. California is Mexican. Mexico is Californian. This is the city where it all smashes together against the line that used to be in the middle of nowhere is now no man's land tierra de nadie y que The sweet smell of fried churros on the street. The hint of leather slipping out from all these shoe stores. The tang of instant coffee, or, fresh brewed. The noisy, smelly mess of the open market across from the cathedral, with all its hunger and delight. Someone was giving away plates of food outside the cathedral doors the other night. Inside a choral service was singing prayers from the people. A hint of frankinscense slipped out onto the sidewalk. I was looking at a big vat of beef stew and a pile of styrofoam plates. The night was bright with traffic and streetlamps and far, far away, Mars gleaming like it has never gleamed before........ Mars. Earth to Daniel.... |
| There was a riot at the state prison last night in La Mesa. This is the famous prison with its "little town" inside the walls. I thought they had shut that place down last year... I am told by friends that the infamous Tijuana Jail -- la ocho -- on Eighth street, is also open for business again, although it, too, was shut down a year ago. Plus ca change plus la meme chose no? Oui. My landlord Ramón is away on vacation in Palm Springs with some old friends. The restaurant is "cerrado -- vacaciones" says his little sign in the window. Only Gonzalo the longest worker comes every day and cleans this or that, waters the dogs and parrots, and plunges into projects to straighten out cupboards and the back storage room. I sit upstairs and read poetry, then go out and walk and walk. Sometimes with Michael, sometimes alone. I look at Mars in the evening and kick myself for selling my telescope four years ago. Ooops. |
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| I think I spent three hours yesterday reading to myself. I did William Carlos Williams Desert Music twice, both in English and Spanish twice each I mean, so that's what, four times? Yeah. Just a little burned out. The reading, it seems, is not scheduled for September 18th. CECUT has their calendar out now. I don't see myself anywhere on it. Not yet. I wonder how long before I see her again... She's probably mad at me because I haven't mailed her any magazines I sent the last real letter but I will send another *sigh* love stinx a little yes but hey asi es la cosa no? |
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