High on Sundance Mountain:
above the tree line, into tundra, glacial;
looking out across the Mummy Range
watched by raven eyes
translucent, purple, passive.
Under mushroom capped boulders,
I dreamt of hunting and gathering.
teeth, bones, wampum shell
pearl glint off cue ball smooth pebble
ancient scarred land
ocean breeze history
of sundown states, sets flags a’wavin’.
The Painted Desert
reflects a bleached sand message,
on the palm
of the hand, too busy
raising wheat, and children,
to catch the news;
new wars –
monumental errors, hardware software,
gangster mob wars, police brutalities,
heroin heroes die, people on streets,
White-boy rednecks throw back Coors lite,
swear by th’almighty,
spit into the wind and cuss,
the Jews, the blacks, the commies, the fags
they’re common, enemies.
The polished political dome, all magnificence,
looks out across the harvest
bangs the gavel on empty silos.
Copper tarnishes green on golden flames,
Ellis island-landing immigrants seeking fame,
investment, investiture, multi-national disease.
Wall Street drops,
red lines trace innocent blood
a thousand miles from ..
long, warm, summer evenings
under weepin’ willow branches
at Dead Horse Creek,
suckin’ on agaves, and sarsaparilla.
of thirteen year old memories;
tree house dreams of
Hardy Boys adventures
Dennis the Menace comics
and young girls’ budding breasts,
not stopping to think
of shorter days