the modern realization of the
pagan nation
dance the indigenous dance amid
the incantation
film makers are the educators
of this present age
we can no longer hitchhike the
American stage
set design on the open road
the director yells cut while
the camera man reloads
un-tethered i weather the
hitchhiker’s thumb
sixteen hours and my feet are
numb
forty-eight miles and no one
has picked me up
circle k beer and a to go cup
coyote misery run rabbit run
empty cans in the desert and
i’m having fun
are you free? dead or dying?
alive? you’re lying.
the show is almost over on your
t.v.
i start a camp fire with wood
that is free
indian watches and just shakes
his head
buzzards will eat me when i am
dead
but tonight i have fire and hot
desert rocks
i cannot expire if there are no
clocks
four walls and a ceiling, bills
to be paid
coffins are followed by a
motorcade
and i am a poet who burned all
his books
i started walking without even
a look
back at the ashes that rose to
the sky
while walking the highway i’m learning
to fly
the road is so empty in-between
towns
i’m the wilderness king and i’m
wearing a crown
dawn has devoured and vomited
light
my thumb stops a trucker and
earns an invite
we make it to L. A. with
nightfall in reach
i enter a bar that’s down by
the beach
i watch all the citizens from
sidewalks to stools
they think they’re so relevant
but i think they’re fools
two beers in each hand i slip
out the back
walk down to the water and
watch it attack
the shoreline receding like
hair on a head
i find a dry spot and make it
my bed
***
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