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I'm In The Mood
sitting in the stall
at work, reading
One Hundred Years Of
Solitude, trying to
examine the differences
from Juan Rulfo's book,
besides mystical detail
a custodian yells
"Hey how's the shitpaper
in there?" "White," I
reply, recognizing the
bent nosed ex-boxer
he makes no move
to leave, so I start
singing, I'm in the
mood for love, simply
because you're near me
he splits, whistling
a Christmas song
A sun darkened shepherd dreams
and watches his flock.
Red chile peppers hang
from vigas, drying.
Ivory smoke curls from
the hogan adobe chimney.
Crimson cliffs and mountains
rise toward the horizon.
Checkered bandanna, turquoise
ring, hand woven magic rug.
Fresh peyote washed down with Coors.
A herd of wild horses watch,
a man step from the mirage
and float into the clouds.
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