Took a crescent wrench to the mind
a mechanical problem surfaced
those dead all came alive by my side
we dreamed of my arrival
faucet drips and flouride cleans the porcelain
the news it turns me inside out
gone to watch the birds without eyes
just to listen
just to be still and breathe
A sea cucumber crawled out of the salad, in the middle of the night, caught a cab back to the sea. Haunted by nightmares of sliced tomatoes.
The cab driver got paid in croutons. The service station demanded cash for gas. He waited, in a hopeless state, finely seasoned with garlic and herb.
Someone drove up in a hybrid electric. They stepped out before him. The sunlight was clearly absorbed by their personal microfibre solar paneling. Purchased at REI for some exorbitant amount.
He could see and almost was moved by their aural pre-eminence. Still, he had not forgotten the sun, with whom he shared a deep m-path.
The sun was never paid for its efforts, either. And the sun never complained, neither.
The inroads mazed and became single track, breaded, unleaded, in a dirt road so dirty in the woods there were wooden signs painted and tacked to trees pleading “please drive slow! no wake! save our road”. So dirt clean the nature of it all.
This was the one. He and the sun had traveled long and far to the extra wonderful place of great and even renewal.
They saw and they knew. The sky turned red, from blue. He followed then into the lesser known.
What was this world where when autumn arrived…
How they harvested, by hand.
How they jammed the jam.
How they hunted the land.
Made wind chimes of bone.
Tapped trees for sugars.
Thanked the almighty.
Venison, quail, turkey and trout.
Facing the winter with faith and tobacco. Exposed to the elements.
Cooking the fats over a crackling fire, on irons they traded for pelts.
Chanting at sunset and dancing til dawn. Large fires contained within circles of rock.
Living a life ruled by water wind fire earth sun ice stars and great sacred spaces cast under moonlight ruled by the rhythms as of yet undisturbed and of wonders unknown.
west of the King fire
in my King bed
California dreamin on
clouds of burnin trees
an x junkie
arisen from the
i touched her
she burned me
i didn’t even know
i met her
deep in the
she wept as i
i bathed and i
Burrs in my shoelaces
Pollen in my hair
I saw a great blue heron
By the river there
I moved toward
Shade a saturation
touch up from the
In our cyberfrenzied age
Thank the merciful gods!
praying to god on a curb http://www.katyamills.com/2014/03/praying-to-god-on-curb.html