floating down the river Styx

For Hell's sake I was baptised
in the scarlet of bloody western sunset.
This is my token dream before I sleep,
before the cold ash of my body washes down the Colorado,

Upon the rock rounded by glacier's tears
and the memories of thundering sauropod's last steps
I stare at the diamonds in the cataract:
Holy Holy Holy Lord, I see you.

From here, I fall, and the icy cold washes me
down the river towards the gulf of California
to settle on the shifting plates of tomorrow's lands
where I might be resurrected from magma and fish puke.

Another prayer, perhaps
Another tear, never