Serenade

A green flotilla,         verdant armada         stone hand encased         in an arm of ocean         off blue-grotto bay.         Something avuncular where land         meets sea          - underdog, whipped cur,         adult "son" posturing to the elder,         pontificating man.         Melaque after dark         or was it Aguascalientes'?         Monterrey at sunset         prior to "the" pop festival         or Morelia, on eve         of feasts to that native patriot'?         Vera Cruz, 1915, at the height of         American occupation         with Pershing tailing the hirsute Pancho         Villa in Sinaloa         outdated rock & gunboat diplomacy          - no longer exotic fare         plate of frivoles,         fried banana         Mahi-Mahi.         On the palette,         dreams are fickle,         subject to "drunk         and disorderly resisting         arrest," outmoded and         fuzzy with age.         Policeman of the Olmec intellect,         you dance late on feather boas         this Mariachis of the soul         with glittering purse and yellow,         travelling nectar Tequila.