parson's

burn me alive
let me overdose
and let me thrive
in the shade of the Joshua Tree
let the hotel know
that room keys
fly with the burritos
sing like an angel
of Jesus
make me weep
in the color of men who
do not know
even if they are aware
let the singing
of ladies past
reflect on kin
that can never, ever, be secure in the blankets
of night with the cool breezes blowing
blow on
breathe in and out
with the cool drafts
that need the editing of a drink
be good
be three
be one with what you deny
know that you are meant to cry and
it is nearly forgotton
pick the cotton
and speak ...