Beneath the heavens’ celestial fire, campesinos untangle barbed wire, set spiny, bolder-footed fences
Country folks, as usual, swore inventively at the baking May temperatures of their countryside fields this year.
The Guadalajara Reporter
Guadalajara's Largest English Newspaper
Country folks, as usual, swore inventively at the baking May temperatures of their countryside fields this year.
Pepe Salazar lived as a “wetback” in Houston Texas in the 1990’s. That was when he was bouncing from one low-paying job to the next.
Our weirdly unsatisfactory and nationally debilitating political situation has suddenly been coughing up something more than anticipated childish and obvious lies.
Up on raw mountain flanks scrawny trees burst into bud and leaf as if these dry season days possessed unperceivable scorching magic.
”Donald J. Trump, Bucking Calls to Unite, Claims ‘Mandate’ to Be Provocative,” read this morning’s unsurprising, wearying, headline.
Chaos presently seems to infect even the smallest breath of air this early Thursday a.m. And to great extent, for a great many conservatives there seems a growing, harshly bitter reason for this hard condition.
April 23, the 400th commemoration of the death of William Shakespeare, was a moment decorated by choruses declaring, “No, it wasn’t Will who wrote all that amazing stuff!” It was one — or two — or many other, candidates, dreamers say. Not Will.