Diarrhea Dachsund

So this is my last night in the state of New Mexico for this trip and what do I find myself doing? Driving an ancient Buick around in search of the pizza place for our dinner. Albuquerque is laid out in a grid but all bets are off when you're driving an old car in the pouring rain in any unfamiliar city. Cold pizza.

Staying at my Aunt's house is always nice. Theres a variety of things to do, whether relax by the pool or sit on your behind typing a blog entry in a den decorated in various "Plymouth Road Runner" items. I'm currently doing the latter, while a german short-haired pointer and a beagle watch me. The dachsund, Baby, is outside, giving forth from one of his ends, both of which are leaky today. Gross.

Anyway, the trip was amazing and I guess that I'll blog about it more in depth in the next few days but for now, I need to get to bed. I have to be up early to catch my plane in the morning.

Did you know that in small shops
selling Mexican art and
religious items
you can buy
dioramas of
20 people
fucking?

Burps and Ravens both echo

So if I have any readers out there (at least one! Thanks observer!) you've probably been wondering about my fairly conspicuous absence from (God help me for saying this) the blogosphere. Well I'm in New Mexico, the land of lizards and tumbleweeds (I'm not kidding, I actually hit a tumbleweed with my aunt's car today) and for the last few days have been significantly without internet.

Something I have noticed from being out here is the helpfulness of sometimes removing one's glasses. Sure for a few seconds you can't really see, but when you stop, you realize how much clearer the lines of the world have become. Colors actually seem purer and the mesas and pinons blend into a beautiful watercolor. Then once glasses have been reapplied, the world has never looked more perfect.

Roadside markers point the way
to a natural chamber
of echos.
Raven flies away
when my
cousin burps.
Twice.

Roll out

Tonight was interesting. Saw Transformers, and it lived up to my childhood memories. I really need to purchase the toys.

But
then I turned around,
feet spread apart, ready to confront you.
You were six feet further back than I
remembered.

I pointed towards the bar,
falling as it was to the floor, and asked
if you wanted last call.
Last call.

Hit the floor and I drank in the broken glass.