U.S. National Park Service photo |
i climb
you vine
you say
bouquet strum-mi-n
wear me a worn ripe
a passed hat that
you knew would catch
my eyes on all fours...
I knew to trace
my nose along your spine
as you find my
ghosts prefer to be
on the floor
lingering in silk
at the bottom
of the bed
I lived in Arizona once
just outside myself mostly
Flagstaff-ing-lee drunk
with a pre-raphaelit-ed
totem-uck-maker-rak-er soul
the coal I carried
was from the Appalachians
and meant for this desert cold
and the snows, here at...
7500 ft in elevation...
nestled up a side
of mt humphreys
tar paper shack
pot stove meager
you visited me once
left me your underpants
said if I ever make it
to New Orleans
to remember
the sound of honey bees
and to wear beet pollen clothes
you told me
to always love
things like
the mouths
of a desert night...
for they always hunger
music, scratch belly reaches
the stars are multi-dimension-al
stages and beaches
singing time tide and rain
and the torch lit memory
you will keep
of me here
will show through
to the places where
you never knew
I had stayed
drawing circles
inside you...
hicimos
el amor el uno al otro
toda la noche
pequeña mesa
de bosque petrificado
hasta que vimos la luz del día
aquí, al final del poema
paraste y convertido, dijo
" bésame por favor y haga la cuenta ! "
EJR ©
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