sadness that was once a river

sunrise along the sandia mountains
clear desert sky gradienting
from hard blue to
ember orange as the cars
rock and rail-roll east and north

lamy amtrak platform
wind-ruffled silence
cut in on by the approach of muffled car music
accompanied by the sound of gravel
under turning wheels


a duo blankent-lapped and
fur-hat-ear-flapped in the sun on a bench
at lamy station
as if they’ve always been there
making the place feel (with its
silence and vast open space-ness)
like an idea of somewhere in alaska


new mexican sun on sequins
tossing bits of light
across surfaces/interior of
a car named cool ant
whose key remains in the ignition
due to its tricky particularness


the click of boot-heels
along the sadness that was once
a river we hello strangers and
coo at their dogs and trade
the texture/flavor of our
last months
(her: plucked and balmed [raw skin/soothed] chicken
me: a strong weave, like a hammock
me: a smorgasbord
her: )


we drape in the corner of a
window booth overlooking
santa fe plaza where she
shares her honeydrizzle
sopapilla technique


wherein songza! barked with a growl
becomes the new
one word exclamatory joke


contact-improving joke-dance party
in room 164 – a room that is mostly bed
too bad this (king size)  bed isn’t bigger i say
so we could expand our moves repertoire

i can’t hold that kind of eye contact
for that long
with anyone else


comparing trish’s tiger stripes (a name for the
baby-birthing belly stretch marks) maybe you
can call them leopard spots i say
suggesting a corollary reclamatory phrase
for cellulite

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