When I dream this desert turns green, blooms
clouds race where mountain lions loom
ash gray, the cool of blue rain comes
a redolent wind of desert sea
rushing waves, sand blown
sculpted saguaro forests
pale flowered yellow
drinking every drop
now this eve we drink
now before another dawn
of the mad thirsty sun

My lips are cracked leather
lizard dry, my breath melts into mirage
beetles emerge from dark caves
in flashes of iridescence, crawling
their tiny tracks, surreal sand paintings
art for cactus wren, hunting

Here, beyond yet another
sparkling diamond mound
lies a wild sea of the sailing ships, I've found

Oxidization
Volcanic hills are blood red
With memories
Of water
Past
Atmosphere gone
Polar shift, done
Magnetic aesthetic
Still
As pleasing

Do what you can
or get out the way.
But don't lend your hand
if you can't take the weight.

Outside of poetry
I would still be living a life
lightened and carefree
merrily chatting with wife.

I would let a poem rise in my head
throw to wind and see it dead
return to sky all breath of pain
watch them fall as joyous rain.

I would darken the screen let it sleep
burn the poems with none to keep
retire to the nook not been for long
brush up the web on a dusty song.

To be away from poetry I would strive
sail on the river go on long drive
snuggle tighter to a fathomless space
outside of poetry discover happiness.