A Trip to the Southland
1: Road Work
Massive works of generic agri-business
squeeze the interstate's itinerant length.
August & green—all the stirring way
to the golden, central hills
worn smooth by the summer's haze.
2: Mirage
Given a chance the land shows
no sign of water— just dying brush,
refuse, dusky tumbleweeds; strings
of awkward pylons running off
and disappearing, finally, in the vaporous
horizon.
3: Highway 41
Cattle in the dry creeks
of the cattle-colored hills.
Long, fenceless stretches of open land:
little oaks, outcrops, arroyos,
the wind—old music of the west.
4: San Marcos Pass (Old California)
Mountains rise in majestic ranges
feathered by the august air,
fronted by crumbling foothills—
rock-scarred, brush-bare, and plain
in deference to the handsome woodland
there.
5: US 101 (Old California)
Wood-rail bridges, ancient eucalyptus,
oleander dwelling in the median
where two lanes should be four.
Bougainvillea lacing into the palms;
offramps leading to pale haciendas.
6: Laguna Niguel
One bright morning I took your photo
alongside your several cousins, askew—
the din of the freeway below you,
Mount Mojeska, behind, rising above
the visible air.
7: In a Recess of the Mall
As if someone waited for this, preyed,
expected it: your casual stance caught
beneath the recessed lighting—plain
youth, beauty, sun-rich skin, garments
waiting to mimic the bank of monitors
above your head.
8: Movement Relative to Movement
Gazing down at the stalled freeway,
its continual animation transfixed
by pylons, hawks on the powerlines,
gunships and jetliners overhead; sporadic
trains crossing—I fall back on the bed
only to feel it move.
9: Immigrants
Condos and townhomes, townhomes, condos,
the otherwise large dwellings tethered
only by an excess of exotic fauna—the articulate
landscaping slowly devours the undeveloped:
opuntia spreading in fleeting clusters
among the sun-worn chaparral.
10: High Desert Saturday (Old California)
Miles of sagebrush running off to reach
the alluvial fanning, mountains. This distance
altered only by little outposts springing up
or dying under a western sky, spilling
its quintessential clarity.
11: Mono Basin
Ruddy boulders and sagebrush, outcrops
breaking the skin. Pinon and aspen.
Aspen dying in bands. Range upon range;
spiritual giddiness, grace. Ancient
volcanos still resting in the airy heights
above Mono Lake.
12: Retinal Plunge (Sonora Pass, Old California)
Imagining the shift, feeling the uplift,
the glacial tearing, the pull of gravity,
water's crush. The sun upon us, the lessened
air. Its touch gathering at our feet
and entering there. Immaculate youth,
hard beauty, augustness.
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