Those who visit this place we built
Will wonder where we went, and why;
A tumbleweed t-shirt clothes the street.
A buzzard with diamond stud eyes rules the sky.

While cool, sweet water sleeps in the well,
Agnostic wind tolls the mission bell
Where we held mass for two in bed--

Then eulogized each other, dead.

08/16/2008

Posted on 08/16/2008
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