Stage Coaches, Hands No Longer - How It Is How I Am Otherly Conformed, An Address Toward Deity Poem by Warren Falcon

...because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying? - Pablo Neruda

You ask out of the blue: How are you?

wanting to test the waters first


I thirst


Going wild west I am

stage coaches

Hands no longer in my lap or yours

In a country of glow worms

no retreats only circles of

wagons overturned

petticoats surrendered

ubiquitous white moon

of buffalo skulls

curved horns

spider web

dew-dropped

between parted

lips an arrow

always misses/rots

the over-spun plot

thin thin with only

you the main one


and me
always the
minor one
in yours

how now I am all
leathered scalp
lip savaged
free untethered
from the noun
the verb of thee


But just who is driving the
coach the dust will never reveal