one two three four

April 19, 2009 12:00AM

Current mood: mister sister love


the West suddenly snakes upwards in my thoughts, the
driving-pine blurs, the shaking whispers and ruffled
white of streaming aspen digits rolling by….
one-two-three-four, i lap my head against the window,
scurvy of wind sucking at the gap above the half-opened
glass. one-two-three-four. one-two-three-…. hum,
i turn the music off.

snaking-dotted lines eat up the distance. i scarf the
autumn chill into my lungs. one-two-three, hum,
one-two-three, hmmm……, these mountainsides lay livid
against this autumn burn. breathe believe and burn. layers
of elevation, escalation, enervation. an endearing learing
glare.

these are the towers…. these are the giants i asked to
kill me. ripped weights of stone, funnels of reverb,
ghosted and grim, the West lays deep inside these bones.
these are the giants i asked to kill me. these are they
deserts i asked to starve me….

flat-backed, sanded, castrated under lurid stars,
carbon-monoxide dreams, i relent. rolling over, rolling
thin. ghosts in the splattered pines, mountains grieve
in streams. rambling patterns and waking dreams. where
to go from here, oh where to go from here.