Vespers In Tj Poem by Shannon Walker

The border looms large in your mind
When the death, and the yellows, and the reds
All combine, and those ancient bells chime

The way they always have for the dead.
We cry; they cross over,
Get a room in Tijuana with a double bed;

Couple cervezas for lunch, lobster,
More drinks, tacos, watch the sunset,
Then jump on the rollercoaster

Of love for a marathon set.
It's Heaven; no, sex, drugs, maybe a little blow?
I guess; whatever you think you can get

Out of the deal. Just be ready to roll
Out if it goes south cause death's a funny thing,
And the only ones talking about it are the living.