Untitled

Childhood dropped away
And I hung dizzy
On the brink of life
Rich, violent, rewarding.
The misery of the people was beyond imagination.
The workings of the world:
Wonderful
Wonderful
Six months of sand
and me trying to suck the lime wedges
out of long necked bottles
of Mexican beer.
Here on these high rocks
My memory myth repairs itself.
The blood red dust blew down
out of the sun
And in the south
it sloped away
Down to the sea.
I'd been up all night
scribbling poems and blues
by candle light.
In general I wasn't good with strangers
My mother was never like that.
Who, if I cried
From among these angelic orders would hear me?
Does he despise me
for my weakness?
He has a little smile
And I know it means something else.
I think he is just going to drift away
Out the window
Out the window
The poison of
that
Lies in
you
to temper


photo