Bounding up the canyon was a truck in which
some boys craftily inlaid themselves—what more
was there to do other than lean on the porch rail
and watch the alluvial landscape change
in ways that would never seem odd or senseless.
The opuntia vigorously impaled feckless tumbleweeds
as the first chords of 'Purple Haze' subsided;
to get to that place where a pact could be stricken
our lives begin and expand toward something fertile.
Larry clearly enjoyed this feature as the afternoon
moved on.
If the broken magic of high school could be assessed
he guessed it was this frail, columnar light receding
from everything he knew.
rdking