the subtle arrogance of a world traveler
and my pseudo-cosmopolite alter-ego
come to a full halt
A daunting voice
a haunting guitar
and Rafael Esquer's magic illustrations
remind me of a place where I grew up
and the roots of that distant tree
reach all the way here
reach to wherever I may be
Am I your Faust?
is your halo I see turning into horns?
Mephistophelic muse
Here, on the Styx River, you're my Chavela and Charon
in a single smile
I no longer know if I'm looking out the window and it’s raining
or if I’m looking in the mirror and I’m crying
but at this point, I no longer care
When I hear those soulful echoes
and my eyes begin to bleed
and my heart begins to tear
and my hands yearn to write
and touch, and feel
that thick air
vivid scents and bright colors of the Mercado
those cobblestone streets
tile roofs, distant bells
long lost love affairs
Mexican eyes, Spanish voices
unforgotten
and brought back in a flash
like a whip
like a penitence
like salvation
My ballast and raft
this saint and devil
worshiped, iconic and mellow
reaches in and grips my heart
How I yearn to hear you
Indestructible Chavela
how I yearn to reach that nightmare
that dream
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