Margarita Dances Poem by Linda Hepner

When in LA the blah-blah
Is like a soft balloon,
You must drive down to Baja
One wintry afternoon.

You’ll see the dusty highway
And burgeoning hotels
But you should do it my way:
Breathe deep the sounds and smells

Away from trucks and wide roads
Where paths are hillier,
And stop on bumpy side roads
With bougainvillea;

You’ll see an old adobe
Las Rivas, by the sea,
And at the gate, tall Toby
Beneath an olive tree.

He came here fleeing battles
He did not want to fight,
From Sparta or Seattle,
Or some eternal night.

Old tables in the tavern,
Salsa at the bar,
A cool, secluded cavern
Where Toby is the czar,

For suddenly comes laughter…
And entering in flocks
Come women and men after
Martinis on the rocks!

So Toby springs to action,
The barmaid spreads the salt,
The Margarita faction,
Cervesas spurning malt!

Then mariachi singers
Arrive and start to play,
Guitars and flirty flingers
All join the frolic fray!

While sitting at my table
And sipping at my drink
I do not feel stable
And soon forget to think,

My voice begins to giggle,
My eyes to laugh and light,
My legs to tap and wiggle
My triangle excite,

And over ancient candles
I sing and laugh and glance
For welcome Baja scandals!
The Margarita dance!

12.30.05