las vegas/bernal/santa fe
april 28-29-30-2006
outlaw poet apprehension
eluding capture in poor
rainwhipped
medicine bags fingered
n counted in minds-eye
silver bullet, wolf claw, fire opal
piece of rickrack
from the lady’s hem
quest honest outside law
.22 for her
trained between crooked eyes
snuff out the blindness there
for her…
dillinger brings busted glass
n count yrself lucky
that these reloaders
n hipshooters didn’t call down
harder rain
in stormy american night
dying dreams
flickering projection lamps
lines spoken onto screens
silver blue n red as
hard panhandle dawn
& the wound
that seeps words
and will not mend…
but we attend—
2 ladies help w/ ganja
n smiles in a dark dry car
sitting lone now sippin tecate
silent w/in outsider
chatter n mythos jokes
n invocations
todd n yama, s.a. conjure
shakespeare nightmare academic
uncertainty principle laid down
n laughed off as somehow
meaningful
the bard’s outlaw shadow
played by strother martin
in another classic
bit part…
giving a lift
quest for kell pure
it dawns on the driver
indian spread flaps
careless across jagged hole
rear window
o’keefe sunlight
n white billows
done run thunderheads
back over the divide
johnny cash fills the van
“no I won’t back down”
“I’ll be what I am”
“gonna stand my ground”
“a solitary man”
poets appreciate converging
in silence of song
wander looking for lost legend
for danger
n for soul
for laughs
to mount desperation
n not get throwed
too many blue gates
n third hand directions
but coltrane to steady the wheel
from central park west
up to kell’s beat hank hilltop
the critters of now
roam historical repository
& the caretaker principal
conspirator inspirator ornery
cuss kitten lovin clarity voice
troubadour
76 years old next week
drinks malt liquor from stained cup
rolls tops smokes em up
regales w/ wild tales
the 3 who converge—
dorsey from toledo
s.a. from l.a.
until santa fe calls em back
down that rocky road…
museum calling itself a gallery
within the turquoise city
presents polite outlaws
dressed for dinner w/ the schoolmarm
guns checked at the door
armed w/ pastoral allusion
arguments for common sanity
art is god is love
save the prairie whales
n s.a. crooning
no uncertain revolt
n frankie
reminding cities
crawling w/ junkies
n forced blowjobs
when outlaws lose even
their most trusted
weapons…
a bowl on a rough stone patio
stainless blameless receptacle of light
receive our lines for tony and the lady
may you keep them burning bright
climb arroyo to a place for poets
a cross, a writing machine struck dumb
blasted by ignorant gods mid-line
can never turn back the poets to come…
thanks to john & annie for the place & the pulse
Jimi Bernath