Of course

The memory is still awake

Like the prison of dreams

Tabernacle of time

The byways of stupidity

Enhanced daily by locust like humans

Collecting at intervals 

They feast on thoughts like cheesy hamburger dough

Mexican style

With pico de gallo and mayonnaise treats 

Batmobiles made of corn syrup

Festooned with ponchos and sombreros

Ah amigos

Listen to the backbeat 

And the horns at the racetrack

Of cock fights

And stabbing of men in polyester shirts

In Juarez