Just Drive

Fear draws the reverse gear,
    shifts into first
        of the open road.

Open the throttle
   of my rock aria
      into the redrock cowboy country.

   into the low northern bridge
       of the silver-gold sky.

Ace wings taking flight
   from the snow-toothed
        mountain runway.

J o y


Dedicated to my son, who gave me the idea for this poem.


Dead Eyes

Pairs of hands grasp hands, mercy pulls into homestretch hesitation.
Our angels adjure us to flee annihilation, waiting our word.

The wind carries the shrieks and the stench of rotten eggs,
seeing fire sheets zigzag from heaven to the hell of burning flesh.

I feel my body crystallize into a burnished tomb,
window eyes being the last thing mirrored in horror.

Mind Lot’s wife.

Remains stand
still dead eyes in the back of your head
to the sulfur-soaked paper rag plain pillars.
Zombie salt figure statue
exhuming His remainders
into the mountains of culture,
melting the turbid icy snow pack.
Reanimating wadi water-washed hearts.