José and I went up a sandy hill filled
with different plants, though
the one that was most distinct
to me was yellow. We climbed
the hill, him grabbing bits of yellow
all the way, slowly letting them drop
like bell-shaped sand, and
at the top, all below was yellow.
José's brother is sick, threw up just now,
actually. Earlier José lit a cigarette
and blew smoke into his brother's hair
crowwing him several times --
to chase out the bad spirit, his mom said.
He was telling me about a Swiss girl
that came by and started to fall for him,
but was conflicted as to her travelling
plans: "The answer's clear," he said,
"you either go & chao, or stay
where your heart is."
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