The desert sky is vast
A heavy blue spanning far
Rippling with the sun’s heat

Cacti line the horizon
Like an uneven barbwire fence
As the sky turns to orange

Like a flame licking the world
Dry and thirsty for a drop of water
The sun sinks into the Earth

Dubai has reared herself a throne,
In a strange city lying alone,
Far down within the Middle East,
Where the rich and humble consume and feast,
Their shrines and palaces and towers,
Resemble nothing that is ours,
Around, by dunes and winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the desert sky,
The melancholy waters lie.

Back from the desert and loving it
both the visit and the return.
The powerful plane deiced in Chicago.
Brittlebush, difficulty distinguishing acacia from ironwood.
Mesquite, and plenty of paloverde.
A good jazz band in Phoenix, their own style, no apology.

Could you also love your cancer? The vicious attack of a hedgehog
      cactus?
The winter storm that kept us on the tarmac three hours
followed us home. Used to be
when weather made the headlines, that was good news.
No more. Those melting icecaps and incoming meteors.
Some pray, some stay still, some keep playing.

Anyway, notwithstanding inexorably expanding or otherwise rapidly
      contracting universes
I saw cercocarpus, phainopepla, tomentilla, saguaro, and a great
      guitarist. Prayers were answered.

This is the place where I wake up
On an open highway in the valley
My mind dreaming with my hands on the wheel
The radio churning as it always does

There’s love songs, ballads of what once was
Spanish talk radio just across the border
I pay no mind as the desert road sings
A simple melody lulling me into a dream

The other cars are simply props
Machines that accompany me on my drive
I press on as I always do
Muscle memory avoiding them as I pass

This is the place that I call home
A little town inside a world of sand
Earth mother carries me as I keep dreaming
The radio churning as it always does

A unique glint compels the eye
Towards desolation
Pluck a stone from the desert floor
For examination

Would faceting reveal a prize?
Do its flaws void its worth?
Could it ever shine so brightly
It seems not of this earth?

Yet inclusions of baser stuffs
Are threaded through its veins
Harsh mineral imperfections
Which this beauty contains

They cannot be excised, you see
It would transform the stone
Into a hollow, pitted thing
So best leave it alone

Just drop it back into the sand
With spots you so abhor
Another hand will pick it up
One who can love it more

long after i’m gone
this pebble will remain with
my touch turned to sand

So Long, Cowboy
Red earth painted on your sun-kissed face
Marked the shadow of a veil
And the rim of your Stetson worn out

Was I really that mean to you?
To leave you in the dust
So that my sneakers feel the dry embrace of cracked pavement?

You walked to me barefoot at sundown
The fire outlining the silhouette of your ribs
In The Garden of Saint Paul’s Hospital

Your thin bones
Toothy smile
Fixed gaze

I’ll send you a postcard
You send me your love

Shimmering oblivion forms, dancing in sunlight—
Ripple thickens the lip of the sand.
Structural emblem searing the desert—
Music-slip, cockhantuu.
Gape-sunrise scolding, turney—
Allow my feet walk ‘pon sun-furnace sand!
Emerald Green, reside in distance.
Behold! The gift of grassland?
Gapefold, turney. Contstad, noble—
Sweet milk oozes from the scorpion's gland!
Oasis of milk— of mother-cry milk!
Breastmilk of this sun-scorched strand.