Casa de Fruta  Casa de Burger  Casa de Coffee  de Playground and Casa de Cold Duck
by C. W. Moulton

On highway 152
going west over the Pacheco Pass we stopped
at Casa de Fruta and Lindy you had a buffalo burger
and I had french fried onion rings and apple cider
at Casa de Burger and at Casa de Fruta.
I bought a pineapple and we held hands
and walked over to Casa de Playground and
looked at the white deer.
Then I went into Casa de Vino
and bought a bottle of COLD DUCK
and walked out into the cold.  We drove
two miles and turned off and bared our asses and fucked
after having gotten out hopping around through the hickly
blanket of flowering mustard
that evidently had been seeded here
by the hands of Padres
as they rode up from San Diego
at the turn of the century on horses
and anyway as I came up in the flowers
from mission to mission
pulling out my little foot some seventy years later
I noticed it was covered with a lizardly slick
that sparkled in the morning.
And for the first time Lindy I noticed the come
steaming from
your El Camino Real
right down the shush halibut
of your toppled pink tripod's peachy gazebo
in tiny
opalescent swirls that formed glitterings.  Great Jesus
the sweet fat slap of your sticky ass
up in these green hills.
And the placemat
of your topaz El Pacca fluffed and mugged
up toward my nose
much like the mashed potatoes and chagrin
piping broccoli
that from the back kitchen comes
hot through the swinging doors.
And then as I say back down in the flowervine
zig-zag frost of the azure morning sky
on one knee you leaned
over and looked up at the sky
and said
O sky, what a beautiful sky
and then you sat back down on your knee
and exhilarated the cove of my neck and said
don't worry about the bills
it's a beautiful trip
and we broke open the pineapple and drank
the COLD DUCK and it was cold.
It tasted like the swirling around our bare nudenesses
in our feeling the bracer of the morning air
and then strangely
we both farted simultaneously, yes we did.
Yes we did Casa de Fruta,
Casa de Burger, Casa de Coffee
and Casa de Gas Station and Casa de Vino
and the whole family of Petrancelli
with the help of A.P. Giannini
you have a good valley to fuck in
and to all the laborers that ever worked this valley
these fields
amigos, senoritas and senors
gracias.
After wiping as best we could
both Lindy and I had a very very pleasant journey
into San Fillippi
through Hollister and on to our destination
seeing all the sights,
just kicking back and lounging around on the relics
in San Juan Bautista.