Monday, April 14, 2014

The Big Bang

I begged the man 
To let me into my reserved room
Too early he says, frowning
A gust of wind at me.
Me, a tumbleweed crossing the road.

The woman at the Motel next door
Watched a tumbleweed
Disengaged from its roots
Blown by the wind

She said, there's no way
The first place girl 
Is going to sleep in her car. 
Hey, this girl ran 100 miles!
She locked on to my red eyes,
Seeing a snow globe of sand
A whole world in a glance.

She asked why I did it:
I have to push myself over the edge
To truly see the mountain,
I said.

But how is the view worth it?
Confusion mapping her face.
Smiling: I'm not the viewer,
I'm the mountain.

Sunshine has painted me
As part of the mountains of Zion
Lying on the messy
Motel 6 bed 
The last inhabitant's trash 
Still in the wastebasket.

There is a fever in me
Hot and cold
As though the Big Bang 
Is happening within me.

A universe of experience expanding:
This kind of growth fucking hurts 
It pushes through scars,
Turning them red and blue
Tiny capillaries,
Making new bloody maps
Under my skin.

My body still holds 
The sliver of moonlight
That smiled lopsided at me
All night on the trail
Its light bringing energy into my heart
My feet dancing and stumbling to its gravity
Like the tide drawing into shore.


Thank you for commenting!