Thread: Border Warrior

If on the lam by way of LA,
watch for hot cars driven by
navy blue behatted madmen with
pistols on their hips,

Go hide at home with
its paper stairways and ego factories,
where outside rumors pave the street,
where on the street corner Evangelical
hookers offer salvation to the suffering
man crawling on towards obsession

Go live in a mud hut and
extinguish reality screaming from
the mountains of the Smiling Scalp
loud enough so highway motels
can hear the visions of
the palm nailed priests in rooms
rolling on money beds, slobs sweating,
the tome of power lost forever

But now my body breaks
And they grant refuge in a waiting room
of flesh, weakening my Western brain with
scenes of sacred bones bleeding in the grass,
enough to make my eyes water and resurrect
the garbage instilled with electricity,
hair rising like thorns, putting the city,
the world, into a rage

Maybe it's not for you but it's for me,
dancing at the border of destructible Laredo's
perished roads, derricks crying in the distance,
the war of marijuana on my shoulders and so they
pierced me to the road
(still holding a jar of hideous ecstasy),
they the orchestra, I the thumb sucking vandal
bearing his naked veins to the lions of a
soul-sucked city

Then they hung my bones by their heels,
Reeking, blood streaming red reality,
no more dancing with wrath's misery
by the light of day

This is a very deep and complex poem, with many haunting lines. The last stanza is my favorite part...Thanks, Peace...Jul