son~ando en south texas

saturday just after seven in the evening. cristina and i are driving west along a farm road just outside of elsa, texas. the sun is setting behind grey clouds that have threatened, but not delivered, rain that afternoon. that western stretch of sky iridescent in its glistening golds, pinks, greys, and blues.

we are heading to a coffeeshop in mission, texas, where a south texas acquaintance of mine will be reading from his collection of poetry. he's invited me to read. if i want. i carry two poems folded neatly in my purse, but am undecided.

my other friend, cristina (from brownsville), meets us at jitterz, a bright spot amidst mission stripmalls. its brightly colored walls are adorned with paintings, photos, and other locally-produced art. daniel, the featured poet of the evening, thrives in the spotlight, playing with words and rhythms, and joking with the audience.

i unfold my poems on stage and am self-conscious about how un-funny they are. one is about an ex-love, the other about a mother whose son has recently returned from iraq. but everyone laughs at the joking way i introduce them; the audience smiles and claps appropriately when i finish. i am happy.

we escape before the third set (!) of poetry and head to mcallen for food and drinks. our first stop is the republic of the rio grande valley, where we seat ourselves at a table in the outdoor patio. we order an appetizer, a meal, and a dessert. a full course meal between the three of us. wine and margaritas for each. there are introductions and updates, confessions and stories--funny and sad. the restaurant is closing, and cecilia (cristina's sister, my friend) calls; she is coming to meet us. we decide that our next destination will be españa.

it is nearing midnight, and españa does not sleep. the patio is filled with latino glitterati, drinking and smoking, their conversations a varied music sharpening the soft orange light of the space. we snag a recently abadoned table, and a server comes to change the linens while we settle in. champagne and wine, another margarita. on the rocks.

we give cecilia the update on the poetry. question the politics of the poets. we talk about writing--the process, the politics, the audience. we talk careers and flailing love lives. our questions, opinions, and declarations bubbling like the champagne in cristina's glass.

i realize at some point during the evening that this is the perfect moment. here at españa as the hours become small. enjoying the company of my beautiful and opinionated friends, our futures uncertain but our dreams close.

@>-->>---