She whispers in
I whisper out
the tree bends trying
to figure us out

Elm mother tree
drops little-jagged leaves
to touch the beings
caressing
in her shadow
and the sun dapples here and there
exposing a bit of grass
then flesh
and we all dance

right in the middle of the field
of nature of heaven there
Her and the tree and sun rays
and  me

knowing

you might need a wrinkle
walking down
Main Street
parallel parking
dry cleaners
the stove  pipe
cigar shop  
maybe a glass to
smoke your ice into a
head
he sells that now
rolling papers
a wicked meerschaum head pipe
looks like
Santa
imagine a rock there
rush
yeah
and the ***** cinema
with low life pimps
saying hey my sister
is the good dude
you saw too much in Vietnam
in Phnom Penh
sixty seven
never thought you'd see
third world back here
had a needle
in your vein
every second
broke that
habit
arrived back to crack and ice
seems like drugs evolve faster than we do
and pain
is always there
oh
how the world gets
smaller
tell me
why the hell
we were there

gonna see  so  much more into me
like you do to a Magic Carpet Ride
I got a Harley
long hair
chaps I wear every day
Roots boots
usually got herb
I don't mind you
fantasizing
we  both like Born to be Wild
and tight jeans
living wild like
destiny is so far off
inconceivable
his lecherous hands like the
dealer's hands
all over me when he touches you
but when
it comes time to leave
no matter
what
I can't

You hold echoes of a shift
so plaintively
against the swell
of midnight summer rain—
within the roar of the planes
on cold faded glass
the stuffy air at the airport

There was no way around it
that I could see—
the world still kept its spinning

You lock your stare here
and how I wish
I was packed up too,

snug heartbeats in your leather briefcase.

© BT