She said if I visited her in Mexico she would brush my teeth and rub my feet.
It’s called D.F
., Mexico City is, which in Spanish sounds like DAY EFFAY. I think it stands for something like Federal District. It’s fast there, and choked with pollution.
Her letter mentioned that she’d try to send a ticket.
Here in the States, the people I work with watch “The Price Is Right” and the Jamie Foxx show on their breaks. Others bet the horse races at Saratoga via the Internet. I sit at my desk, wholly aware I will never be able to play the guitar solos on the first Smashing Pumpkins record.
Then again, such flamboyance doesn’t suit me.
, I started to write, your letter …. My head swims with visions of you taking off your earrings for siesta. The still breeze in the small curtains.