The long ride, on roads
riddled with pot holes
reached out over a horizon blurred
as if this over-ambitious artist brushed
all defined lines
away in the pursuit of something less confining
than his college courses

And like that we escaped Austin.
North West
for Ogden, Utah.
The last hub of culture
in a country where culture was prohibited,
if not simply starved by water hungry landscapes.
"The dust storms are coming.
The Mother we left behind has shut all the windows,
and nailed towels to the bases of the doors."

I took one last look past the kitchen window sill
where apricot blossoms perched on now stagnant branches
soon to be snapped away.
"I think it's best we get the fuck out of here."
in my increasingly hoarse, but soft voice.
Then you said
"Kiss me, Beautiful."
I'm staying behind. I'll love you forever,
which might not be very long,
for the either of us.

The car was packed, only my possessions, within the hour.
Seven-thirty, I was on the road.
You and that old ramshackle shed shaking closer than you appeared.
It was just passed the city limits
that I decided I'd be damned if was going to leave everyone
I'd ever loved to go down with that sinking ship.
Wielding shovels, along side the road, in rows,
Unwittingly digging their own graves.
"You boys in a rush to talk to God?"
Coughed from the automobile cabin.
In reply;
"Thus saith the Lord, Make this valley full of ditches.Ye shall not see wind, neither shall ye see rain: yet that valley shall be filled with water."
"Get your asses in, we'll gamble with faith some other day."

I needed blood even more than I needed water
an' I'd like to think they needed me.
Then, the sky was rusted,
not like now,
when pretty girls with handheld cameras
center a sunset in frames.

We reached out over that horizon blurred
by eyes wet and warmed with whisky.

04/29/2008

Posted on 04/30/2008
Copyright © 2010 Nickolas Crosby