Criadora Ladrona aka Carmen's CurseI eat so much moneyslut tumbleweed truck-drunktaco stuffedat Electric Sunset I don’t know my noisesa warm tale of vengeance seared white by the ancientdanger of craneshottub drug running in benevolent light. Dear Goddear cunt dear carbinedear night we snort our coke at the river switch out this helmetfor a dry mystification a walk in the bindweedor, orange-lipped a pixie-cut shroudsinge what’s left of the hanging tree to be more effeminateor ghost-town effective. Should we renameour Billy the Kid game BTK in soft focus and will Letty let Rex let us leave the hotel? I doubt our ability’ssoft charcoal snakes in awe of black weatherleatherflesh in the dell a carbine or a cabinfrozen like a cross. The forensic examinercalled this moon seminal. I’m an admirerbut I’m not going to drive one-hundred milesto pile her ribs in some cave.
Plan Your Next Adventure in the Land of AsaltabancosTexas means friendshipor fornication mink coats that smelland electrical prods where out in the westRex is vexing the night and we’re high in the badlandsafraid of excitement unwrapping the bodieslove-happy and armed. The penalty takes placeoutside our hipzones the promise of fishscale cocaine poking through calves frozen next to the reservoir flume. This is release from their drought-driven teeth geological airslitsthe era of fire to where lizards turn white and dark armpit hairs stick in the stucco of pubic tattoos. This is where we missthe gunshotsorange lipstick swallow the vistaof inhibition narco-satanico gypsum and French fries. We were addicted to velvet-lined vans white tennis shoes maquiladoras. Now it all sounds the samein that comforting way of bone psychology or a veteran ghost in the aquifier.Rex wasn’t a saint or a mastermind. We’re too skinny to drink and the snow on our crimes is the lonely reality.