6 Mexicans

when I wasn't quite as stupid as I
am now I had an art gallery on the
Sacramento River with my then
girlfriend Marta Matulich who was
a fabric artist right there in a little
town called Walnut Grove and we
would party with all the usual whacked
out fucks you always make friends with
but there was this one dude Tony Coyne
from Perth who would always tell me
he was a heavyweight boxer ranked
third in Australia with that thick accent
of his and he was a big motherfucker so
the more we drank the more we drank
but he was a good partner he just missed
boxing and would always bitch about it
so one day at the bar I had behind the
big room where Marta showcased all
of her dolls I told him I'll fight you man
and gave him my best punch which was
pretty funny because the next thing I
knew I was on the floor about 20 feet
from the bar shaking it off trying to get
it together and he's standing there and
I think fuck this boxing shit and dive
at his legs and knock him down and
we're all over the room kicking and
rolling and after awhile it becomes
pointless so we get up laughing and sit
back down to have another beer and
he tells me you're my brother mate and
that makes me feel pretty damned good
until Marta walks in pissed off seeing
all the heel marks from our shoes covering
those one inch tongue and grooved walls
so we split and go right behind the gallery
to the street below where this farmworker
joint The Porthole was and I watch him
kick the living shit out of 6 Mexicans