Sunday, April 5, 2015


You can't start the day with broken tortillas
Can't squirm out from under the power of purpling Santa Ritas

I am here because I need to be
I am here because of love
I am here because of want and because of the way that dust settles inside dampness to patter down and forge stepping stones of mud


I meet men who wear the sun in their skin
Who've hit the hot dirt foot by foot
Who've found mysticism in their big sky

of tricks

We touch pain everyday here
when cacti land in our fingertips and the sun bleaches our teeth
My palms absorb their too tiny spears
Their lessons
are underneath

and over