as a man with his winter pale skin and probing blue eyes as obvious as the north star in the desert night, i was cautious to adorn appropriate costume while enduring my premier expedition to the grande nation and country, neighbouring south. NO, i do not mean to fool you into thinking i ventured a journey into the united states, dear reader, for i am not a man that brave, also its full of americans.
it had been 5 long and arduous years stranded in the frozen and sopping wet northern hemisphere. my previous excursion, a spring in my formative youth, was an adventure intent on tucans, rum, obvious witch doctors, and sunburn, and beautiful it was, in Costa Rica and i would have stayed.
but i had a ride on some prematurely drawn curtain, i was back home and became coy, and stuck as it were in the flat bottomed north until i could find gangway around the slow trotting mule, where my hands had been shackled to the hooves, tracing an undulating line of monotony, which is a wonderful looking word, however so dull. in some misfired stroke of luck, now i was catching the slipstream behind a wave of wild horses, i gripped the reigns with the clench of my jaw until the galloping current gave to an ebb tide and i found moorage in the Mexican interior. i walked the plank to the lurid earth and moved on a scent which could only send me to safety, lay wait the warmth of a racoon haired mistress with a calico tongue and two rubber arms.
being as pale as i was feeling, i was wearing long sleeves, wisely attached to a thin, blue, collared shirt, comfortable cotton trousers, leather shoes, a sock puppet and a full brimmed hat with sunglasses, all this performing its role successfully as my sunscreen. arriving in the january heat was not too hot, but the sun shone brightly and i found refuge in the shade of the historic walls of each monumental building as i walked the streets of this cafe city.
every new wall i passed was thick with colourful paint, some chipped away exposing layers of past decisions, sun bleached to pastel. i pry my eyes around a corner, and arriving through some creaking metal doors, now barefoot on the stairs, i found my desert eyed lady, here, without robes to protect her as she displays her milky skin to gleam in the bright seclusion of the white washed rooftop terrace of her apartment.
i am happy to have temporarily retired my wool winter hat, my sweater and jackets, socks and rubber boots, hair net and toupee, everyday wear for the wet winters of home. here we find immediate ease in the warm air and casual climate of our neighbours. we watch beads of sweat chase down the side of a cold beer bottle and cathedral bells begin to chime from the many towers surrounding us while the crack of pigeon's wings circulate through the air.
simply everyday, and gouging-ly romantic.
i find myself as present as possible now, and i can't help but to want to strip down, to expose my starched white underwear and skin to the sun god above, but better judgement whispers otherwise, and i try and tell it to wait, the judgement and the stripping. my stomach turns and i can feel a clench where i had been sitting. i hadn't eaten anything since arriving and the thought of what mexican food will soon do to my system makes me sweat like a hotdog at a pool party, i welcome the dew as my clothes dampen and it causes me to feel as refreshed as the afore mention beer bottle which i had been envying since the sentence had been punctuated. this becomes a tactic which i will continually use as my stay lengthens.
my ravenous companion, that is, my stomach, my feature haired lover and my self, we make plans to acquire an automobile, we make plans to see things and eat food and make more plans. we make plans to make love and make origami, which i make plans to avoid, the origami, not the love making, nor the plan making, that is still being planned, i write one more sentence, to be generous with the word and because i'm an ego maniac and then i set the trap line that is the end of this piece of literary excrement.
...to be continued, how revolting.