salmonrojo
¡Poesía está en la calle!
Resistencia Bookstore
casa de Red Salmon Arts
1801-A South First St.
Austin, Texas
(512) 416-8885
revolu@swbell.net
Apr 28th, 2009 @ 12:48 pm
One Last Cruise: Taos Plaza by Levi Romero
this morning I decided
to throw one more cruise
through the plaza
en memoria de primo Bill
y de los resolaneros de aquellos tiempos
who had found their circle
come together
in the presence of
each other
like everything else around here
it seems all is become memory
some Saturday mornings
my father would make the 20 mile trip
into town
we’d park at Cantu Furniture
the parking lot that sits a’top
the old 7-11 building
off Paseo del Sur
it was exciting for me then
as a small boy
to know that our car
was moving across the roof
of the store below
and now, I still find it amusing
how did that sort of engineering feat
arrive in Taos?
the other evening as I was looking for a place to park
I pulled into that same parking lot
and for a brief moment
contemplated leaving my truck there
but, for the sign that read
Customer Parking Only
All Others Towed Away!
this morning
as I cruised into the plaza
I saw one lone, recognizable
living, remnant, figure
standing in faded jeans
white t-shirt and Converse canvas Allstars
and a bundle of newspapers
strapped around his shoulder
el Paulie
flat-topped, square jawed
and looking 30 years
still the same
but, where were you primo Bill?
the park benches deserted
the covered portals no longer bursting
with children clinging
to their mothers shopping stride
mama’s strolling elegant
black hair curled
red lip-stick
the purse and coat
was it that Jackie Kennedy period
or was it Connie Francis?
I look out the window
! nada!
¿que paso con la palomia
con los Indios envueltos en sus frezadas
que paso con la mini-falda?
I reach for the radio knob
and I crank up Santana
I let the sound of the timbales
snap
against
the vacant hollowness of memory
against the plaza’s deserted facade
against the songbirds mournful eulogy
I notice a group of tourist’s
congregating next to where the old Army Surplus
used to be
I look
don’t look
I look again
they pretend not to
I know I’m on trial
I let off the gas pedal
and cruise in slowly
I lean back
into the seat, lowdown
and make myself comfortable
controlling the steering wheel
with one finger
here’s one for the ol’ times
baby!
! dale huelo!
I remember cruising through the plaza
as a teenager with the Luna brothers, Pedro and Rupert
I remember Rupert
bad-ass Califas loco
coming out to spend time with his grandparents
whenever he was wanted by the law back in Madera
I remember him
leaning far back against the seat of that black ‘67 chevy
sporting spit-shined calco’s with one leg up on the dashboard
and finger-snappin time to War tunes on the 8-track stereo
his locura, cocky and loud
estilo California, nothin’ like Nuevo’s
quiet and proud
back then Taosie wasn’t a lowriding town
chale, low Impalas came from Espa’
I remember Rupert blurting out the window
to some Taoseño dudes staring us out
“whatcha lookin’ at, ese
we’re just lowriding!”
well, I remember those times
being mostly like that
the predictable unknown lurking
waiting around like some badass dude
leaning back with one bent leg against the wall
and somehow we’d slip through each incident
acting like it hadn’t mattered whether we would or not
this morning
the people hanging out
by the coffee shop
laugh and languish
their carefree tourist manner void of history, of memory
neither attachment nor sentiment to time and place
no scars as enduring testaments
to the questions posed, the answers given
a young girl stretches out
against the oncoming morning
her breasts
her form
that figure
¡mmm, gringa!
what am I thinking?
I’m the writing instructor
of this summer’s poetry class!
I can’t think
act
look
this way
but, hell
I pull my shoulder back
turn my head
and stare
mmm, baby, baby!
at the stop light
a young vato
long hair
and a pony tail
looks at me
catches
the riff
he knows the movida
a tight smile forms across his mouth
Oye Como Va
Mi Ritmo
!bongo, boom, da!
Mi Ritmo!
tssssssssss_______ !!
for you, carnal!
one last cruise
around
the plaza
