Tijuana Return.

Hurtling through the stratosphere like a sparkler spurting Flash Gordon rocket, I hadn't time to finish my comp'ed bag of nuts before the transvestite flight attendant snatched them off of my table. "We are landing now, prepare!", she snarled in telepathic pictographs. Screeech, engines died to a whine. A ticket was bought. A bus was boarded. Crossed the International line amid honks and the haze of exhaust.

"Want pussy girl? Titty women?"

"See donkey show?"

"Bullfight?"

I elbowed through the throng of taxi drivers all on the hustle and picked the most handsome I could find from that teeming mass of yellow shirts.

"Hotel Coliseo, rapido." Snap fingers. Chop-chop.

Screeched to a halt in front of the Hotel. Old junky sat on wood chair by the door focused on me with cataract eyes and junky stoop as I paid the driver and enter the crumbling whitewashed building. The smell of sewage and feces filled the lobby, an obese transvestite sat sucking a silver tooth as I paid the old China man the cien pesos and made my way up to the third floor.

My room was painted olive green, paint flaking. Bed sagged to one side with graffiti scratched above the wooden headboard, the toilet ran, and I had roaches for roommates. Glorious view of the Red Zone. The distant moan of a whore earning her rent mixed with the samba music wafting through the pungent, dark halls. I showered in tepid water, got dressed, and left my key with the front desk. Walking sideways through the group of six Amazonian transvestite hookers that guarded the lobby door; catcalls and grabbing at my crotch, I strode through the choking night air, the klaxon of car horns and high decimal banda, the cries of cigarette vendors, the smell of seared meat and sewage...Cops patrolled and gave me a sour eye. Queers passed staring and giggling and pointing at every bulging groin. Dogs sifted through trash next to their masters.

I found The Park and most importantly I found Saul working. He sat on the cold iron bench like a lounging cougar, awaiting prey. His lean body jumped up and ran to me all smiles. Short chit-chat and with the heat rising we faded out of The Park and materialized in my hotel room.

Tongues were probed, fingers poked, and erections were exposed. Saul always was proud of his very long penis and had no qualms of using it. Clothes are thrown around the room. The bed banged and squeaked as Saul fucked me hard and long and afterward, we shared a Lucky Strike. And then he fucked me again. Showered and went downstairs for dinner. The cafe was teeming with life. A life that had been squelched in the States and one that will never resurface again. The States is old and evil. The evil has always been there. Before the settlers, before the Indians. It's been there...waiting.

After tacos and agua limon, I went back to the room for a third time. Sniffing a couple of lines, I rode Saul for nearly an hour. Hair is pulled, sweat is licked off of writhing thrusting bodies. Slap-slap-slap-slap went the sound of his brown hips smacking my ass. We fucked on the floor in the rickety wooden chair and came up with the nastiest of positions. Saul talks filthy to me in Spanish as he degrades my soul. I am seeing stars as that boy rams it home. Squirt! Squirt! Squirt! Our racket echoes in the halls as we both moan out in orgasms. Oh shit! Aye caray! Beaten, bruised, and covered in sweat and semen, sheets on the floor and soiled, Saul and I lay there entwined like two snakes.

My digital clock said 4:36 a.m. As he lay beside me sleeping and I stroked his black curly hair, I sighed and looked out the window at the shimmering moon.

I'm home.