---

Nothing in this head but letters to the dead

The hollow hell of yellow hills

I berate the dirt and uranium trails

The travelers wail

Sitting by a fire in the drunken woods

Blue-white flames pierce the black of night

Then on the beach

On the shores of the Gulf of Mexico

El stupido

I’ll go at you with dragon glass

And send you back to the dirt

In Sierra Sierra

Where the red stone wages peace with the blue sky

And grass is stones and trees have pricks

Yet jagged emotions in the adobe houses

Where the people howl like forgotten wolves

Spires of snake pain

Inflamed margarita nerves

The days last forever and ever

The sun never hides

Men with electric drills and masks

Climb streets of heat revving

The lost and the depraved

The children wander aimlessly

Bicycles click on palm tree lined streets

Slowly they sail in a daze

Dreamland sugar boats

In sanctums of stickiness

They all sleep with the stars

---

My new book is now available for purchase: The Apocalypse Pipe. Available in both e-book and print editions! Thanks for reading and supporting independent writers.