Jesus stands on rooftops
telling kids to tie their shoes
but they’re busy sewing patches
with strings of sturdy blues
and in a matchbox
in a mailbox
lies her cross on a chain
with the dust in the air
caught by too-late rain
for destiny’s a recycle bin
and death a dirty lane
and the sky is all unfinished thoughts
and hope, a weather vane
and in a locked box
in a fire box
lies her life without chains
with creosote scented air
that smells like city rain
while the past closes its oak drawer
and hate drops its blind man’s cane
there is a madly spinning storm
and hope
a fallen weather vane.

This juniper,
this soft orange dirt under my heels,
these O’Keeffe clouds
white muffins on the glass pan of the sky
ants that carry their translucent pink and brown boulders

Will you ever understand the smell of the monsoons
with me

With 100 feet of sky framed by trees above me
how I miss the distant, blue mountains of the West
And once returned to the West
how quickly those mountains become background

If we look up
Into the convex mirror of the sky
Screened by the hay loft netting
Will we see the whole world
Left to us by dead men
As though standing on dusty cars in barns
Laughing to catch the sleeping bags as we throw them
Was the way to secret divinity?

And if I jump
From the sky
Will I become virga
Rain to steam
And evaporate before I hit the ground,
the buildings
the heat upon the street
the fountains and the birds and the beaches
the sound of the wind in the trees and the flags
the smell of sheets and milk and oranges and old brick?

Or if you jump
Will I evaporate you?

Or if we jump
what happens then?

A brave man
and a handful of bills
to build a roof
A light to go out
when we sleep

Sinking again at nighttime
quiet eyes on glow in the dark
stars

A rush in my heart
a shredding metal feeling
a fever in my veins when I have no bed to fall upon

Homeless near a thousand homes I stood tonight

How much could I fit in the backseat
In the trunk
How many miles can this tank take me
Where can I be at dawn
What lonesome highway truck stop in Texas

Oh homeless near a thousand homes I stand tonight
homeless near a thousand homes
a thousand homes

Bffs Bffing.