That river runs most of the year, through
Wickenburg, Arizona,
phonic resonance, wiccan, twisted wick
dipped in golden oil to write the vision,
seen from the copper kettle coffee shop
on the banks of the shallow Hasayampa
I formed a story from a glimpse, an instance
made plain for me, I see, seeming
to think we know I mean you see, we know.

We know the way oaths work, we comprehend
open source, may we all say we know and know,
nothing said to have been done by truth,
as all things worked together,
is intentionally keeping
our interpretations of story smeared history,
from just yesterday, as true, first impression

as ever began,
I wrote. And I write, and as I write, I think,
I pray, instants passed in the process give
momentary pause
ele-ment-al
all ment ends are mental acts done thought,
deed done, as when in his heart a man does,
be it he or she, wombed or un, mirror neurons

do not discern thought and deed, indeed,
we all have been beguiled, but never forever.

We die to know, but we then do, as far as you
may know, until we go incommunicado.

I hung myself on the first of July.
Hung myself right atop Picacho peak,
Where hard dry desert meets infinite sky;
Off between angels’ cries and demons’ shrieks.

But louder were the caws of some near crow
Who rasped joyfully, “This is the last place,”
He smiled, “There is nowhere else to go.”
Laughing vainly ‘til tears stream’d down his face.

And flew off into a veiled oasis,
Some realm my presence was not permitted,
Where mortality was not life's basis,
And creatures rivaled gods; ne’er submitted.

Oh that region knew neither pain nor death,
But I thought none of it aft’r my last breath.

In Arizona last week
the migrating Painted Lady butterflies
were dancing and flitting
in stunning numbers.

In waves across the desert,
they'll live for about 6 weeks, if lucky.
Over the course of generations,
they'll migrate to Alaska.

One soon-to-be summer day,
a distant relative of this Painted Lady
will float on the breath of Eagle River valley towards
Mt. Susitna to waltz in the light of the midnight sun.

Dusk sets on the quiet desert
Eerie shadows hide behind saguaro soldiers
And sanguine striped snakes
Sneak back into the earth
Rowdy coyotes meet among the rocks
To cry at the moon
Who never cries back

The wind roams so freely through the desert
Stopping where she likes
To dance with the wildflowers
Or tickle the sun soaking geckos
She laughs as she passes by
And the sands chase after her
Begging to ever be so light as to
Keep company with the clouds

The mountain wraps his unfaltering arms
Snugly around the valley
A regal jacket of deep greens and browns
Laid across his towering shoulders
He lets his gaze follow the hustle and bustle
Of life in the desert as suns set and rise
From the place he has always been
Greeting each javelina and jack rabbit
As they settle into his solid embrace

The wind moves manically
Passing through the creosote bushes
With just enough time for a polite greeting
Before she rushed off to tease the birds
She touches every piece of her beloved desert
But she can never settle or linger too long
For fear of losing herself all together

The mountain feels his weight
Pressing so firmly against the earth
He faces anyone who challenges him
And he only rumbles with laughter
When they strike
But he begins to wonder what lies beyond
Where the liquidy sun shimmers in the air
He cannot abandon his post
For fear of crumbling into pieces of himself

The mountain cradles the wind
Slowing her down long enough
To warmly welcome her home
The wind tells the mountain
Stories of the desert

I need to see the looming sky
A wide, gasping chasm of color and power
Cold and unfeeling
Hot and passionate
Black fading into red into blue

I need to feel the burning air
Arid and biting on my eyelids
******* the moisture from my skin
And the toxins from my heart
Engulfing me like the embrace of a captor

I need to see the silhouette of mountains
On the striking horizon, eclipsing the void
To gasp in the thin and desperate air
Cacti that claw at the dusty wind, and
Beg for nothing in the kingdom of bones

Your like everything I’ve ever wanted and more,
to the degree past 10th -
you’ve lead me to explore,
call me crazy if I believe in you more than I believe in me
Ill go crazy everyday I don’t give a **** who sees!
If you’ve told me forbidden fruits,
I plucked the apple off the tree,
to jump and free fall to you is the rush they’ve hidden for centuries.
Now im awake to feel and see reality is magick’s drop
and im in it going going gone no seize this please create the plot
while in my presence the world is hell bent wrapped in gold like spiraled pendants and I know the people flocked like Jupiter’s King invoked descendants from a history I grew to sow
so I basked in truth
if I do say so your sacred dialect in affect of glass shone mirrors through smoke a soul felt its past in a daze 7 days to be exact
no body would believe my spoken lapse.
So deep you are you see I fled in you to you I get lost in you such depth you give me life and I mean that with every syllable said,
when I was lost and found you found me dead.
I love you
in every sense of the words to beyond this earths measures im sure some would say its absurd
I don’t give a ****!
You let me be me and if that’s not normalcy a conundrum we’ll be.
To the likes of a crowd they steal our ripe. This whole planet neglects the seeds of life. Youre my happy
you’re my everything I thought I didn’t know you’re the light that sits on my skin when I squint and it glows.
You speak a simple sentence and it crumbles it not still.
Where a chaotic mess resided,
you peacefully sealed the seal
that revealed
I in fact
AM.
You in essence
Embodied as one
When the moon took flight
To join the sun