Outside of the only open bar in town
A bright blue night sky hides behind the white clouds.
An old car engine turns over in the distance
While headlights beam their way across the road.
I step into the moonlit shade to not be seen
While I drain bottles of Polar Negra onto the dirt walk.
Inside the music gets louder and louder.
The bartender sings karaoke to her favorite Mexican Rancheras.
She´s got a good voice but why so loud?
The music doesn´t match the mood.
I can´t even hear my tocayo sitting in front of me
Telling me the horrible story of how his mother died.
All I hear is something about not having enough money to admit her to the hospital,
And then about how they dropped her body accidentally in front of the funeral home.
I just see tears well up in his eyes. Dam music is so loud.
It doesn´t matter; she´s gone, he has moved on and learned from it.
There´s little time to get depressed down here.
One has to keep moving to stay alive.
The lights go out so we order another round before the beer gets warm.
We crack open a door to let in the warm, humid, desert air.
Buena Vista is once again without power.
At least no more ear-bleeding karaoke.
Only crickets and noisy exhausts from dilapidated cars now.
The constant low hum of the street lamps are napping.
No air moving through the windows of my room.
Dogs barking at a lonely burro clicking his hooves across the broken pavement out in front of the house.
Mosquitos buzzing around my ear while I try to fall into a dream state.
And everything is back to normal.