With the ladies in their serapes
And that beautiful Mexican boy
Who begged to go back with us
But the best we could do
Was an Encinitas orphanage
Run by our friend Stan Stout
Remember him?
City of Children
I think it was called.
They let us walk right in,
There was a great big bathroom
And tiny little toilets all lined up.
In those days we went diving
All the time,
Lobster every night
And we found one
On that pink fluffy rug,
The same one where I found
That missing snake,
And no, possums aren't dangerous
But raccoons are. We had a family
In our yard
Of different colors
But nobody does negatives
Any more, the colors
Aren't right, I took some old Kodaks
To a specialist
And they couldn't get it back.
But all the heads turned
For the coyote coat
We bought at auction
At the Bear Valley Country Club.
I remember
Hilda asked Johanna
What are you doing,
And she said she was looking for Lars
Somewhere in the crowd
Isn't that sad?
Poor woman.
Not like MiMa
Churning up the gravel
In front of the cabin
After Pookie married a black man.
Now all those rednecks
Became BLM
That crazy summer
And gave out our number
"We're gonna kill your kids"
They said, little did they know
We had a pickaninny too.
