Masa

My brother’s friends in Germany
Lived in a small village eleven
Houses and a dairy close to
A town 70 miles east of
Cologne in the Hartz
Mountains giving
Violin lessons,
Two parents
Two small
Daughters
Rosanna & Theresa
Who played with a pack
Of small kids who ran all over
The village all day with no TV in
Any home just books & games,
One of which I made for them.
Their mother, from Cologne,
Their father a Californian.
My brother and I visited
For two weeks learning
A slower pace of life,
They served corn on
The cob allowing the
Kids to make piggy
Noises laughing
as corn was
Considered a
Farm animal food,
When I returned to
Texas I sent the
Father a five
Pound sack
Of masa
Flour
So
He could
Make Mexican
Food but the package
Was held in German customs
For months until finally delivered,
Somewhat worse for wear & tear,
My new friend told me thank
You but send no more
Masa flour as it left
German customs
Agents miffed
When they
Finally
Ruled
It was just
A five-pound
Bag of masa flour
Though he was
Able to make
Some chilli
Tortillas
Chips
But
With
Deutsche
Salsa with
Ketchup and
Much worse …
With beans,
Anathema
In Texas,
Even in Austin.