GERONIMO wherefore
are thou now?
what scaffold have you fallen
                                                       from & stared
w/milk-pale eyes
                                 at Reverend Cacey
(who stands murmuring   ,  
                     4
pound golden crucifix in out
stretched hands ? )

(the world is very scared
o
  f
     you..)

(why else would
                               ol' blood   hound
Joe Horn
                  be  put  on  yr  trail  ? )
                                                               raise thy sharps rifle 'bove yr head & eat out
                                                                ­                                                          
                                                                                                                    th'sun !!

                 (i declare you are a mountain poet.)