Margarita Monday

June 29, 2010

Hair matted,
tattered and tangled from a frenzy of flowing air,
bullying its way through the roofless vehicle.

Squinting as the blazing sun comes to rest
its weight on the horizon.
Cold metal imprints criss-crossed patterns into the bottoms of bare legs.
Imperfect purple nails impatiently tapping patio furniture,
waiting for broken english and broken tortillas.

Diced tomatoes, graded cheddar, and shredded lecture
piled high upon mountains of beans
with red hot lava trickling down its slopes,
erupting into spicy hues of crimson and ruby,
forcing small droplets of salty tears to spew
from bright eyes to calm the fire.

Chunks of flavored ice,
a floating sea of slush,
contained in a cactus cup
causing the time to pass slower
and my balance to become unsteady.

Nom Nom Nom.

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