snow over red rock mountains
fingertips smear the hotel window
naseua sets my arms quivering
muscles a twitching rhapsody
ten twelve hour days in a cube
two thousand miles of travel
another woman
another fading memory
though I don’t want to know it yet


the west the west the west 
tiny I
abandoned to the big sky
the unstoppable mountains
endless plains
small wonder I hide behind
these thick panes of glass


but I haven’t fallen yet, Utah
fat snowflakes twirling around the side of the bus
tumbling through the high desert
dry cold cough of america
starving frontier 
stained with wagon tracks
tattooed with asphalt
pregnant with stone


I cut her from my sight
with a single chop of my hand
walk away before she can leave
fat Oregon rain slapping my cheeks

Now all I have to do to run is hum and

sing of California
and the warm hazy night
and the cars that slip like silver fish
beneath the glimmering lights
sing of California
the smooth money sun
the liquid kiss of twilight lips
and the surf’s azure drums

but the Utah snow
is running through my bones
and I haven’t fallen yet


stripclub swimming in red shadow
don’t know her name
but her smile is easy
and she wraps her body around the rhythm
like a silken tornado
to me
I’m too fried to be shy
throwing money like confetti around her
sick of waiting for the collapse
so I fall


up onto my feet
red mountains my spine
dry snow my eyes
grey sky my smile
my hand trailing hers 
as she whirls like hot ash
around the golden flame
bursting from my heart

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