Pinche Pemex Station
Pinche Pemex Station
Beneath the rusted awning
Of a sweltering Pemex station
Where the stench of spilled diesel
Mingles with exhaust... and sanitation
Little relief from the heat
250 miles and no water to spare
No place to retreat
But a Pemex station so foul of air
A mixed blessing it was
When it was just over the horizon
Not so much now... because
They have no gas for the Datsun
No refrigeration for the Topo Chico
Whose cases sit full in the sun
No toilet paper in the banos
But that hasn't stopped anyone
Cacahuates Y churros
Are sold in the lot
By Damas on burros
Whose nostrils blow hot...
Air so vile and fumes so strong
Tempers are flaring, nerves set to fray
Being told "it wont be long...
Maybe tomorrow, maybe today"
Stranded with roaches and rodents
Scorpions and snakes
Struggling with your Spanish
While a roadkill carcass bakes
Then a wall of dust
Rushing with sound
The color of rust
Billowing and brown
Gets dirt in your nose
And grit in your eye
Scouring sand... blasting the sky
The wind grows stronger
And quickly you pray
But God can no longer
Hear what you say
Through the devilish wind
An old Mexican appears
He laughs that "you've sinned"
His eyes sharp as spears
Through the roar and the dust
You lean forward to hear
Perhaps some nugget of wisdom
But his words come in clear
With a mixture of cackles
His drunken speach slurred
Lips moving slowly
You hear every word
The storm suddenly stops
El Mexicano disappears
The skies part blood red
A mist covers the land
The air smells of dead
Gone is the sand....
And the snakes
As well as the birds
Ringing in your head
Are his final words:
"Señora... No need to cry
It's not you who will die
Señor... Doesn't matter if you pray
You should have stayed in Mulege
Porque.... you wont find salvation....
At a pinche Pemex station!"
Jesse Alberson
Beneath the rusted awning
Of a sweltering Pemex station
Where the stench of spilled diesel
Mingles with exhaust... and sanitation
Little relief from the heat
250 miles and no water to spare
No place to retreat
But a Pemex station so foul of air
A mixed blessing it was
When it was just over the horizon
Not so much now... because
They have no gas for the Datsun
No refrigeration for the Topo Chico
Whose cases sit full in the sun
No toilet paper in the banos
But that hasn't stopped anyone
Cacahuates Y churros
Are sold in the lot
By Damas on burros
Whose nostrils blow hot...
Air so vile and fumes so strong
Tempers are flaring, nerves set to fray
Being told "it wont be long...
Maybe tomorrow, maybe today"
Stranded with roaches and rodents
Scorpions and snakes
Struggling with your Spanish
While a roadkill carcass bakes
Then a wall of dust
Rushing with sound
The color of rust
Billowing and brown
Gets dirt in your nose
And grit in your eye
Scouring sand... blasting the sky
The wind grows stronger
And quickly you pray
But God can no longer
Hear what you say
Through the devilish wind
An old Mexican appears
He laughs that "you've sinned"
His eyes sharp as spears
Through the roar and the dust
You lean forward to hear
Perhaps some nugget of wisdom
But his words come in clear
With a mixture of cackles
His drunken speach slurred
Lips moving slowly
You hear every word
The storm suddenly stops
El Mexicano disappears
The skies part blood red
A mist covers the land
The air smells of dead
Gone is the sand....
And the snakes
As well as the birds
Ringing in your head
Are his final words:
"Señora... No need to cry
It's not you who will die
Señor... Doesn't matter if you pray
You should have stayed in Mulege
Porque.... you wont find salvation....
At a pinche Pemex station!"
Jesse Alberson
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