New Mexico is in my Travel Plans
Tampa Red and Django by Ferro
a cold rainy November night is on the way.
The sequins and lace around my heart
will be traded for burlap,
my ears meanwhile will smoke peyote
and go to New Mexico.
Summer Again
Soaking up the rain and whipping spit of the waves, as he stood next to the ocean of my memory, a fire hydrant in a red windbreaker, glaring in the midst of a water storm, how I wished it was summer again. Matching silver rings and glances over coffee, army jackets and annual cigarettes, looking at the stonework on the buildings forever, necks craning to see the falcons carved like gargoyles, high enough, on their third story ledges, to amaze us but not so close as to pose any real threat. Under the willow tree, I will always be, with his hands on my shoulders.
