Notes from the Dustbowl
Notes From the Dustbowl #1
Ghost town. Tumbleweed. Ain’t
got no home. Ain’t got no home.
But an echo. A stutter. The land
like magic shit. Behold the
dustbowl. That Damn-ward sun.
Big as your fist. Sit on Plymouth
Rock. I’ll sit below. Con-
templating West. Forget-me-not.
Notes from the Dustbowl #2
Sat in the perilous seat. Served
green eggs and ham. Not what
I’d expected. A case of mistaken
identity. Nothing new under the
sun. Always did what I was
told. Right foot on the black hole.
Left hand on Elaine. The quest-
ion remained. Un-answered. Jesus
raised his hands. You know the score.
Bodies inside bodies. Fingers on
Orion’s belt. After the magical
stutter. Galahad was born.
Notes from the Dustbowl #3
The dustbowl loomed. A book that
could not be opened. The bastard
son remembered a sword. This is my
body. All those angry lambs. Crows
go round and round. Ain’t got no
home. A barn beneath the sand.
Here today. Gone tomorrow. Waiting
for the storm to pass. A little boy fell
in a well. I am the darkness closing in.