Between empty junction gullies of the Dogskin mountains,
the BLM has once again released their Judas horses
luring the free ranging mustangs into capture corrals.

Their crime --- thriving in a battle of survival.
I assure you the Comanche do not dance around the fire,
nor does the ghost of Cortez roll in the wildflowers of El Dorado.

Ironically this native species is now considered feral,
introduced in the very habitat which shaped its evolution,
arcanely empowered to exceed enviromental carrying capacity.

The lands of nature are so dear: rejoice their freedom!
The mountains do not judge, they merely shelter.
Let the mustang graze unfettered through winds of dawn.

Today love is arcanely stool
this rhetoric still pain abet
though she descry a Chairman Mao
only an insight of her macaw
that  her perpetual harmony's bound
and Alfred Tennyson barely there
but in cardigan to dress again.

I had a ghost, too polite to scare,
haunting took the form of kind notes,
a fridge periodically restocked,
socks paired and put in drawers

Eschewing rattled chains and wails
it chose to put the radio on,
only ever easy listening,
Sunday mourning

No ectoplasm,
no unexplained temperature drops
no arcanely spelled clues
to the tragedy of a restless soul

In time, it exorcised itself
and my communion was lost,
with a tidied kitchen,
all brass fittings shone

And I was left with everyday fear

O what do you see in my two doleful eyes?
I know that you see your own revered presence.
A flame softly burning, never to die.

Arcanely gaze at me and so thoroughly scry,
Soothsay our fate of divine coalescence.
O what do you see in my two doleful eyes?

You are the sun of my nebulous skies.
Heal my soul with your bright luminescence.
A flame softly burning, never to die.

Like the blossoming grasslands nearby,
You imbue me with your holy florescence.
O what do you see in my two doleful eyes?

With such gratified tears do I ceaselessly cry,
As I cheerily flare in your love’s incandescence.
A flame softly burning, never to die.

You are the numen whom I glorify,
Along with your sanctified essence.
O what do you see in my two doleful eyes?
A flame softly burning, never to die.