DESERT DADDY


DESERT DADDY


is always thirsty
and I am filled
with water

more than
the half dozen
ivory flowers rising
from the shoulder of
whatever road this is

six blossoms dancing
the Reaper Wind
a sideshow of
virgin Deadheads

six blossoms outshining
the millions
that flirt with
horny honeybees in
the lazy go lucky fields
of rain country

Desert Daddy
can smell me
will drink me dry

more than Cactus
for whom you can
sweat your life away
cutting open his skin
just to sink your lips
into the sweet milk
flowing below
rivers of thorn

I think I glimpse
a flash of car
reflecting off
the blurred edge
of vision

but it disappears
maybe the driver
saw me first
went back for
a couple of beers
and his gun

Desert Daddy
has a temper 

more than Camel
carrying upon his back
the hill of life

whom the US Cavalry
imported from Arabia
a century ago
figuring one wasteland
was as good as another

But the pony soldiers
wearied of facing off
camel teeth and dung
so come nightfall
one by one
they would just
forget to
tie them up

Sometimes you can still
spy their descendants
in game little families
far from the towns
and swimming pools
strolling
the sands of time

I reach a black
hermit of a tree
growing east
bent west

I count five leaves
maybe seven buds
growing from limbs
twisted like exposed
tendons on a body
stripped of its skin

But somehow
I think he
enjoys it here

like Alexander
his army marching
wretchedly through
the wastelands of
Persian conquest when

one of his soldiers
chancing upon
a puddle of rain water
hidden in
a hollow of stone
scooping it
into his helmet
racing to bring
a swallow of life to
the lips of his king

Alexander
who always fought
with his men
always marched
with their feet
took up the helmet
and as slow and silent
as a prayer whispered
into the dreams of
a sleeping God
poured every drop
into the dust
and dried blood

giving every warrior
within eyeshot
a drink

The gnarled trunk
offers me shade no
wider than my head
so we hang out
together for lunch
toasting with
my last swig
the pastel cliffs and
ancient stone towers
rimming my world
feeding my youth with
the first taste of
what Old really means

Desert Daddy is
older than His name

still we get
along all right
for one can never
have too many names

and if I don't get
out of here soon
I may end up 
giving Him mine
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