1: wyoming

greens, browns
beiges, grey blues,
white skies.

underestimated hills
subtle hills
overpowering hills.

tendon ridge of hills.

trees like spare cabbage,
stubble bush of slopes.

the wholly distant Rockies
the waiting Rockies.

train. train.
type of the modern,
pulse of Laramie.

what can a train mean to a woman from the east?
what the Rockies?
what Laramie?

2: nevada

when the cigarette burned me and my skin jumped in six tiny places like sick hate,
sick sour retreat. it was in the window and wind bringing it all around.

when in a duststorm everything was worth considering. i remember thinking i should consider the red rocks and that i had so much to say. there were also black rocks and green moss like mold or wiry hairs. the men i came with were alternately touching and not touching me. this was the hint of a poem waiting to be sung.

3: california

and what San Francisco?

what, to stand where they stood
in the poetry room upstairs?

what the West Coast?
what Harvey Milk? what the leather shops?
what the steel dildo like a bullet, an easy bludgeon?
what the stainless dancing phallus

against a young woman open to you?

receiver of the final thrust, California,
now proffering a thousand thousand exuberant cocks
where once was only thought a prodigal box.

04/07/2005

Author's Note: please, criticism. please please. thanks. how's the new title?

Posted on 04/07/2005
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