January 2012
Try to be more like the ground.” —Rumi
Let’s leave here. You and me.
Let’s pack The Sheltering Sky and a bottle of merlot and maybe a typewriter and
When rubber meets tar we’ll exhale locusts and
The Mescalero sun will pant and dip until
You’re painted in orange light and this
Trip that we’ve always been on will
Expand and contract like the
Lungs in our bodies.
Unclasp that wrist-watch and tumble with me into Nirvana and
We’ll tear down veils with tear ducts and tap dances.
We’ll take turns behind the wheel to praise the womb and mourn progeny and
When we’re tired we’ll sleep under Indian skies and smile at life’s game of hide and seek.
If you’ll come with me, we’ll make a deal to not make deals.
If you’ll listen to me, I’ll remind you how to run on a fuel finer than oil.
If you’ll trust me, I’ll show you that darkness is only resting light.