ah, the west

ah, the west
---------

someone speaks of the "west"
---of being lost
in another place
or time

missing something
that was there

---wanting it

through open doors--magic--
maybe we can go there
---
see it
feel it

magic holds us
im memory

seeks us like a dragon--fire breath--and all--
flames licking
at the hair we have grown
singing skin
since
grown harsh like leather
warm like smooth tires
tread almost invisible

memories rubbed raw
contorted
at the tip of tongue--beyond--

on my own I reach back
try to touch it
see it fade

wish it was mine
to have

and I think
that I should be able
to

fragments
streams of Burma Shave
advertisments

on highways
fuzzy brooks
of water
laughing

I want what _she_ is having...
a childhood door
to walk through,
one that lingers
softly
warmly
invitingly...

what I have are white lines
on asfalt
mile markers I would watch
ascend
descend

computing the passage
in my _west_
the tread on the wheels
boils
burns
sticks to my fingers
when touched

resistent to the scrub
of brush
of soap
of

nostalgia...

josjr (2010 1105)

http://josjr.com