In Mexico

In Mexico there are no aliens with visas If you listen carefully earthquakes whisper A carriage lumbers along on 3 square wheels With sounds known only to God in His infinite wisdom Plump women sing volcanic tunes to platonic old men Leathery faces trace their lineage back through time Struggling through dirt streets to church Pot holiness causes the donkey to sink inside The happy mule pulls the cart while humming Minstrel songs in burro languages of long ago Knowing there is a carrot at the end of the road Volcanic Ash Wednesdays come with a cross Once a year cemeteries come alive in November It must be the 1st. as the marigolds are fragrant Freshly cut flowers with aromas arrive Day of the Dead is a colorful occasion Picnics are fun for those above the daisies Dancing on graves gets crazy