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ash
and the bone-yard banking system of this land is your land
we
followed yesterday
strung
out on commodities
siphoning
gas
from
a early seventies Chrysler Newport
two
tones of land yacht
feather
touch thirst for asphalt
vinyl
top and seats
yesterday
had
a hose in hand to mouth
to
bucket coordination plan
ready
to meet tomorrow
who
has the greasy rags
and
empty bottles today isn’t using
we
followed yesterday
somewhere
beyond the hands
past
turning clock worlds
with
their shifting haze and glitter
we
followed yesterday
curling
into an off street
back
corner of a parking lot
near
where suburbia
starts
to bleed out
we
followed yesterday
as
best we could
never
trusting
the
go-go-go world to put up
pertinent
street signs
for
the corrals
we
followed yesterday
avoiding
the detection scanners
surrendering
to the shadows
moving
away
from
the grow lights
on
metal poles
out
of sight
of
the passing police cruiser
fishing
for not in the right mold to jail
because
that’s what this security state nation
was
bred to do
eat
the fear and wear
its’
bastard skins
attach
oneself to fetal petal want
to
sagebrush rooted in Dante’s second circle
we
followed yesterday
as
best we could
as
it sought out the trees
and
the coal stains
of
service paths turned alleys
we
read what the ghosts of horses
knew
the street would sweep up to burn
we
kept trying
to
follow to see
what
yesterday brought
not
once realizing
that
today was
the
mastermind after all
always
in charge
whispering
to tomorrow
what
to do with itself
we
didn’t realize
about
what today
might
bring
until
we heard
the
sirens and saw
thirsty
flames
turning
the corner
of
page and want
their
rising glow
coming
out of a brick building
with
its many windows
acting
as the mouths
we
starve for air
they
sang
chimed
gutturally
asymmetrically
pleasing
feeding
tearing
and
painting
names
for fire
on
all the accounts
and
old houses
slavery
built
to
keep
when
these lands
became
towns
EJR
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