Taco Night Dreams

Kingston said we'd hit the gringo spot on Friday night when the bus

ain't hot. We laugh till the wheels squeak and pop. But Fridays talk.

Saturdays the drop. The bus rumbles slow. We're dreaming tacos to go.

Kingston, you said we'd roll. Tacos stacked, our only goal.

Gringo's truck, it's worth the wait. Saturday's fate, let's celebrate.

The bus bench creaks were side by side. Talking hot sauce like it's our

guide. Red or green, you ask wide-eyed. Gringo's got 'em both,

can't decide. Taco shells crunch under city lights. Saturday's a feast, the dream ignites.