New Texas

After Luis Felipe Fabre.

Summer, 2008 / No. 20

jack mendoza, bible salesman, widower, fifty-seven years old,

never learned to play the violin.

no one knows if the sky would come crashing down

on us if he ever took that ten-gallon hat off, but

lord knows we’re not about to ask him.

in this infernal town men melt like blocks of ice.

and you with your black suit and bow tie—jack,

are you on your way to a funeral? could it be your own?

you don’t sweat any more, jack. if you keep

this up you’ll turn into a cactus.

ding-dong, ding-dong.

jack mendoza sells bibles

in a land where everybody’s already got one.

The Talking Creek Talking Magazine
New Texas
Read by Paul Vermeersch