Warm Fall desert at dusk.
Darkening envelope of vellum.
Rumpled sheet spread at the feet
of turd brown mountains.
Alongside black ribbons of road
in the vast and dim:
Prickly, sun-baked farmhands
etched upon the sandscape.
Like a writ, low haze hangs
over fields of milo and
stubbly stalks of cotton.
A quilt among the sagebrush.
Staring down the Spirit-Gods
and shattering the arid calm:
Sirens and nightsticks at sunset.
Habeas Corpus under copper stars.
( rounding up undocumented workers in Arizona )
I seem obtuse, oblique, obscure
and rather enigmatic.
My manner and my moves have been
phlegmatic or erratic.
A riddle in my gold rim specs,
fiddling with your new red dress.
Let's dither less and have some sex.
Don't make me guess. Please say yes!