Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

dawn was a light sleeper,
so it was the heat of the morning
that woke me... this time...
I rolled over to welcome
a burning pain,
quick looks across the
sand, and...
a bruised and bloody rib,
...it was something real, the
night visitor...

I looked for sign as I
packed my bedroll...
nothing sure, but the used
skin of a snake, blown in
the easterly wind...odd

peaks over my shoulder as I
walked back toward the highway,
nothing still...
traffic looks good though
as I thumb the gawkers...

a loud junker stops, great,
this won't get me far...but
inside, three dolls, hopi women...
two daughters and their mother

as we ride, I tell them about
my night in the field...they laugh,
I don't, then mother asks, why...
...why would I sleep in that field...
when there is a bull in there?
they laugh again,
I don't...
fifty miles later, I say goodbye...
they give me a large soda bottle,
filled with water,
and I thumb the gawkers again...

wgs
2/1/09

fine poem, walt

good story and good images
immediate and visceral

funny shit happens on the road
thanks

last time or first time..?

desert voodoo... something nameless.

first tour at age 17....9 months long 8,000 miles

the two accounts are one, evening and next morning

never forgotten. made a powerful impression on you. made for good poetry if nothing else... unless you're into metaphysics or ...? then the memories would be beneficial, reckon?

the bull made an impression on my ribcage that night...
I was asleep in a field in NM, I actually scared it away,
even though I couldn't see it......

...to the bull, I must have looked like a giant worm,
(standing in my sleeping bag),...but it was a trip...

hah! bulls have a way about them that's not easy to ignore.

btw - good poem... lot of heart.

am writing part 3....again in NM
gimme 20 minutes...

....the return of the giant worm...heh. walt, this could be a movie. voodoo meets roadtrip. muchly enjoyed

I'm just glad no one saw me-haha

Walt this installment of your series made for heady reading. Confronting a bull sounds like a harrowing experience. You did the experience justice with your poetic talent.

John

It was so dark that night, I didn't know what it was,
but it went away, and I went back to sleep...