Days of Yore cropped and  lower gone copyDon Hubbard

 Selected Rhymes & Other Writings


The Babble Of The Drunken Tongue

The babble of the drunken tongue
The alcoholic chatter
Makes major problems out of things
That seldom really matter

While major things of great import
The things that make us drink
Become most trivial problems 
Of which we never think

Whether this is right or wrong or what
I cannot say for sure
But when the jug is passed around
I’ll pass my glass for more

PUERTECITOS – In the northern part of the Sea of Cortez on the Baja side is the small town of Puertecitos. It is about 40 miles south of San Felipe on what is called an “improved” road. We drove down to it to paddle there, and when we had finished we located the one small café in town and ordered burritos. OUCH! The following poem tells the rest of the story.


My stomach’s made of armor plate
So I never worried ’bout what I ate
But that was before I had my date
With a Puertecitos Burrito

My curry would make a Hindu cry
I strew anchovies on pizza pie
There’s damn near nothin’ that I won’t try
But a Puertecitos Burrito

You name the food and I’ve had worse
If it’s really bad, then call a hearse
But they don’t kill you, and that’s the curse
Of a Puertecitos Burrito

Though the visit’s past and quite long gone
My memory keeps on dwelling on
Those foreign germs which live upon
The Puertecitos Burrito

Maalox, Tums, Pepto-Bismol too
Doesn’t matter what you do
The pain won’t stop till the bugs are through
From the Puertecitos Burrito

One day there’s a guy I’d like to meet
Whose stomach’s strong enough to eat
and whose mouth can stand the infernal heat