The dirt part of the road is five miles. Left up short steep hill, left. Second definite Y road winds round, road follows pole with two black arrows. Where there is only one. The first time you're frightened, then you can't live without it. Several windmills confessing @3I need you@1, once or twice. But it does not happen twice. O ocean, I'm sorry I met someone when I was with someone else. Straw in the walls and thunder every afternoon. When it is noon, the poor pooling of men in the state penitentiary. Along the onyx leg of the drive to Albuquerque, painted cars and nails along the freeway, lone view, the dirt road and the tiny branch. But this is not that branch, nor sun in the afternoon. This is not heat. This is the brain walled, the church at Ranchos de Taos exorcized fifteen angles in the sun. Wind on the corrugated metal eyes, on the hoarse stalled motorcycles, the motels of love. On a Saturday, on a Thursday, all afternoon. Violent beauty, is that what beauty is about? passed psycho pickup trucks, a windmill on the right, this is that dirt part of the road, whether love, in certain cases, mightn't be superfluous. And immediately after that ardor, this technicolor plum hastened to that dusk, those friends, one other. It is unusually cool for July, not for a moment have I forgotten the infinite tiny poem bolting the arroyo, the fable of the red, the drench of the white, the felony of the yellow, the cleavage of the black cool summer night in the desert; boulevard of stars. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEAR PRESIDENT by JOHN JAMES PIATT BARBARA FRIETCHIE [SEPTEMBER 13, 1862] by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SONG OF THE ENGINE by ALEXANDER ANDERSON KING AND PEOPLE by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB RETRIBUTION by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE TOYS' COMPLAINT by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR THE WATCHERS (OLD AND NEW) by HENRY CHAPPELL MAJESTY IN MISERY; OR, AN IMPLORATION TO THE KING OF KINGS by CHARLES I |