The bass playing in his head or a dream, he can't be precise.

It's dusk. How hot today was. Every day is this hot in the desert, I guess.

Darkness now. Stars, stars, stars.

Over the ridge and down the hill, shoes heavy in the sand, and if I fell down right now I'm not sure if I could get back up again.

I can see the moonlight reflecting on the obsidian over there. I already know what it is.

Closer. No soundtrack; just wind and silence.

Brushes off the sand. Nods head. Shiver.

It's a forgotten cenotaph.

[clap until it hurts]

[g. lahaderne 1999-2004]

[k-mart's basement]