Photo By Jools Thatcher

Photo By Jools Thatcher

The theme for this week’s JVG Radio Method poem is “Mexico”, the replay of the Grand Final has obviously made Jon wish for a calmer social climate.

Ed Bates is once again on guitar duties this week (thanks, as always)

Play this poem directly in your browser! Just click the “play” button below:
[audio:JVG_Poem20101003.mp3]

Also have a listen to my album “Drifter


Mexico

In the seventies, a gang, hung out round Richmond Station
Recruits were given nicknames as part of their initiation

“No Nuts” had a squeaky voice, “Cyclops” one good eye,
“Werribee” smelt like a turd, “Sputnik” was always high

“Eagle” lived atop the Hoddle Street Commission Flats
“Note Pad” whose body was swathed in prison tats

“Wombat” for obvious reasons, “Gasket” was into his cars
“Budgie” had a colourful past, mostly spent behind bars

The girls were drawn to “Bullshit” whereas “Magnet” attracted strife
“Jim Bowie” earned his handle cause his best friend was a knife

The one they called “The Mexican” was the craziest of the clan
He lived just south of the river, on the outskirts of Prahran

A moniker can be an endearment, it can flatter, degrade or defame
“The Mexican” didn’t like his at first but soon grew into his name

He took to wearing a poncho, and grew a Zapata moustache
Only shoplifted Santana records, gave back all his Johnny Cash

Gave up “Marlborough” for “Faros”, Bourbon and coke for tequila
Changed his name by deed poll, from Bruce Jones to Pancho Villa

For a while he owned a Chihuahua, till his girlfriend sat on its head
He might have named the mutt “Jesus” but it still didn’t rise from the dead

Replaced by an Axolotl; “Diego” liked to cling to his scarf
Took afternoon naps in his pocket, at night, slept in the bath

“Diego” came to a sticky end, the girlfriend again, though well meaning
Next time she’ll check all the pockets before sending out the dry cleaning

“The Mexican” sadly, didn’t fare much better, when it came his time to go
He’d just had a feed down at Taco Bill’s when he met his “Alamo”

Crossed on the red, didn’t know what hit him, I believe that’s just as well
Cause a brewery truck, full of Corona, laid him flatter than a taco shell

Toxoligy results – showed high levels of mescalito
What remained was guacamole, for a coffin they used a burrito

A mariachi band- played “La Bamba” beside the grave
A eulogy spoken in Spanish, followed by a Mexican wave

The smallest things can alter our lives – Life is a Catch 22
What, if “The Mexican” instead of Prahran, had rented in Preston or Kew?

Had they nicknamed him “Kansas” Would life have been sweeter or harder?
He might have wound up a Baptist Preacher instead of an enchilada

© Copyright 2010 Ian Bland

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