Didn’t think to say
white stone light cloud lattice
thrown from the overpass
(Something dropped from the bridge falls
to the beach below)
Bodies strewn beneath the stars
beneath rooftop signal beacons
ceiling fans
                            in hacksaw bungalows
w/cement porches
              makeshift gardens in the sand
rusted out pickup truck in knee-high beach grass
salt air  
              bitter cold & heat
              red-dirt plum blossoms
              tideflat herons
The mud there smells like the
afterbirth of the universe (& so it is)
                            junkyard cemetery
                            set inside a bruised shadow
                            behind barbedwire
A path of leaves & yellow grass
only there to be tread upon
littered w/jewels (the dust of galaxies 
beneath our feet
or in the sky beginning to fade 
behind the wheel
just as we crossed the border
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
