LAMENT OF A C. I. WIFE

Now that I've learned to cope with sand,
(removing it from teeth and toes),
now that I've found a pharmacy,
a place to buy some underclothes,

Now that I know what exit ramp 
will take me to the downtown crunch,
and what to say in Espanol
to greet, to thank, or order lunch,

Now that I've found my way up Mesa,
down Montana, over Dyer,
(I learned to trust my Volkie's nose,
the city map's a ding-dong liar,

Now that I have the FM station
to soothe me when I'm all alone,
the schedule of the bookmobile
is hung beside the telephone,

Now that I have a swift reply
to the questions of the Border Patrol,
"U.S. Citizen, sugar, limes,
cigarettes, scotch, and Juarez rolls,"



Now that the maid shows up on time
and I'm a chile relleno freak,
now that Mama Tree's is open
with its bawdy-house mystique,

Now that the UTEP football team
is finally learning how to throw,
now that I've come to like this place,

YOU'RE TELLING ME I HAVE TO GO?

						Lucille Murphy