Faded cyan sky
and lazy beige
dunes turn burnt orange
as they near the settlement.
Outlined shadows
become a crowded street
as the inn blasts into view.
Townsfolk splash through its light
wearing colorful secular robes.
Surely Iblis
suffered the greater curse:
forced to witness
best moments slip
dissipate and return
harder and sharper
in eternal isolation.
Yellow Clay
it that yellow clay brother
five years in any direction
before you saw something other
than your own reflection
even then it just a cactus or a rock
it that yellow clay brother
leaves its mark
and you don’t know where your life gone
hard and cracked when it wasn’t running
slick in a temporary stream
sink in get stuck lose a shoe lose a sock
it that yellow clay brother
cut you up
