Noon! Into the oblivion
of sun in Culiacan. Navajoa
brings down the warmed-over
daylight. Guaymas goes damp
as the Gulf mosquitos of
Topolabompo. Lunar moths in
Los Mochis, with evanescent
insect grace, sail suicidal into
the indomitable face of the truck.
Nogales crossover/5:AM. The
windshield glass is a translucent
bug cemetery. Despite our dirty
carriage of death, we show-up
clean for the border police.
From his book “The Demented Chauffeur”