You thought water was precious in the desert,

found every faucet dripping, every lawn green.

The cars’ names resembled erectile dysfunction

medication. If the day were yours the music

would seem more the soundtrack to the life you

should be leading. Hope then that the car battery

goes dead. The manual should’ve read, When jumping

from a burning building aim for the garbage bin.

When possessed by devils, speak in a tongue that sounds

relatively familiar to those around you. Blink, citizen,

and open your eyes upon the rain, that bardic hominahomina.

Mortal and bewildered, there remain too many choices to channel

the light, before climate pointed the birds north then west,

before your tongue was desert, dust, address.

Desert Hot Springs