The Wastch Sky

15Santa-Rosa-Hills

It was in Utah 1993, trying to get a little oblivion
With my father and the Wasatch Mountains
Drinking tea without the Mormons or Robert Redford

My jailer and I, false friends or friends, stole into a record store and he tried to turn me with LPs of old R.E.M.
But the resistance is strong and we survived
On contraband, bootleg cassettes of Jane’s Addiction

While my bead of a woman, false lover or lover, was in the shower
With anyone that looked like Eddie Vedder and they had
French artists send me post cards cause they’d seen the
Oncoming traffic and swerved from Woody Allen movies to divorce

But what matters now is the stone rolled smooth and
Round across hard-rock desert and the lost and broken
Necklaces of scattered ghost-bead juniper

What matters now is the one who laid at the foot of trees
And stared up trunks into branches and sky, perhaps now we see

11-21-15

Art by Christian Quintin

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s