Starry Skies
Under the shining yellow sun with its glowing gown
That lovingly smiled down,
We never frowned,
Running where the colitas and pebbles were abound.
Your smile was ever so bright as the glimmer
Of the shy pipes that always did shimmer,
Occasionally peeking up from the dust.
Our mothers always told us that sunscreen was a must.
Never did we listen, always accepting the sun’s burning kisses
As we expected to give our own as mister and missus.
But, you’re gone now, leaving for bigger and better things,
Eternally ripping out my poor heartstrings.
You said we’d never marry,
Squashing my hopes and dreams like a cherry.
My soul is destroyed,
And I’m now unemployed,
All the love my heart could give foolishly spent on you
When you would just move on to Stevie Montague.
All the days we spent, relishing in the black blanket of shade
The Joshua Trees bade
Were for nothing but a worthless fantasy.
How could I ever believe that we would spend our lives in Annecy,
Having four wonderful, talented kids,
Buying confusing art for the highest bids?
As I sit here now, wishing you were here,
Picturing our figures on a wedding cake tier,
I wonder if this ever could have been,
You always had your troubles with rum and gin
While I couldn’t help but stutter and mutter,
Watching as you took the drunkard’s bread and butter,
The repugnant brown bottle
You treated like an autel.
Why can’t we go back to the days of the past?
How I wish I could place them in an iron cast,
Keeping them forever safe
From the alcohol that would inevitably grind and chafe
The memory of true felicity
And leave you only a woman of pain and duplicity.
I wish I could hold you, my love,
Giving you the new, brilliant white wings of a dove
So that you can fly away from all the corroded metal that now inhibits your heart and
brain,
Squeezing you to the earth with a deadly chain
Of broken glass and midnight parties,
Both of which can never give my heart ease.
Return with me to the land of our youth
we played criminal and sleuth.
Look at the rocky hills, though seemingly barren,
I cannot help caring
About you in your velvet casket.
Although no one would dare ask it,
How did I come to wear black instead of white?
How did the darkest day take over what would have been my wedding night?
And when they do inquire,
I speak of something dire.
Sincerely, I tell them about the El Niño year
When you had one too many a beer
And chose to cruise down the dirt road
Next to the aqueducts through which water flowed.
Then, I soberly inform them of the dusty coyote
Who was chewing on an abandoned red floatie
In the middle of your drunken drive.
With a broken body, mind, and soul, I whisper that you would never survive
Your sloppy, slow swerve
That rolled your car through the desert preserve,
Taking every tumbleweed, grouse, and even a bobcat
With you to an end that,
In reality, was just the beginning of something new and hopefully better.
I hold in my hands your now-crimson sweater,
Sitting on the epidosite ridge with a grief-stricken sigh,
I cannot help but gaze up at the sky
And realize that despite the immense darkness that forms life’s prison bars,
There are just so many stupendous stars.
Created in the desert of the empire that is inland, here’s my midnight promise to you:
From the path of your star’s light, I will never skew.
I will embrace it with the faithfulness I speak of
And will stay with you forever, my one true love.
Inlandia: A Literary Journey 