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by Bobert Batey †
by Bobert Batey †
On the streets of Laredo...
Where I walked across town with my hand being held by the alluring spirit of cocaine binges and drunken dreams.
On the streets of Laredo…
Where the gods of chaos and fear made love to me, as I screamed in Ecstasy!
En-tranced…
By those deemed unfit for love, because their blood was tainted by the voodoo of the black market, free-trade, dark art of the heroine of this story.
En-tranced…
By those who made love under bridges, in dumpsters, and in card board boxes to earn their way.
Who laughed at the faces of privilege who scoffed at their brow, and offered a face of disgust.
Because they understood that all privilege in life is lost the second a judgment is passed.
On the streets of Laredo…
Where I learned to love and to lose!
Where I first felt the joy of being held by the warm embrace of A death that raped me of my childhood.
Sweet Lustful Death!
That cries out like the prostitutes faking their orgasms in the blood spattered walls of the motels of San Bernardo.
On the streets of Laredo…
Where I lost my soul in the myths of normality, Chasing shadows in hopes of finding myself,
But I only found teenagers in ditches overdosing from the divine experience
Because their heroine would show them the face of god, and did show them the face of god!
Who blessed them with a true and second death being reborn into a world free of separation.
A wise man once said, “Let the Dead bury the dead,” and though we maybe all dead
Singing a requiem so splendid that even God’s angels commence in song.
It will still keep me from burying myself or another friend.
On the streets of Laredo…
Where I found the holiness of expression whether it be on stage, a syringe, a guitar, a friend, a pen full of ink, or in a hooker walking in stilettos as the morning sun hits her pale, beautiful, and delicate face.
Working, working, working, always working…
To feed her child whose name is so holy that to speak it is to swallow your own tongue.
On the streets of Laredo…
Where I pretended to sing corridos because the music stirred my soul and brought me to tears every time a single note struck.
On the streets of Laredo…
Where I learned to love everyday and in every way.
Where I learned to die and to live within, and without.
Bob’s poem appears in this volume posthumously. Bobert Batey was a poet, musician, sound engineer and overall creative that lead a cultural movement in the Galactic Frontera of Laredo, Texas. It was through music, words, and his genuine love for every person he encountered that he could translate the experience of oneness. He now travels the ethers hoping to reincarnate into a higher being - if he has not already done so already.
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