deserted

i was naked for 1000 rainless days
waiting to clean the dust from my lashes

but these mountains are dry, and i
am homeless here (you, far away living)

the trash of stars piling up around us
i know despair, it's the memory of a jungle

and i know hope, a black-eyed gull circling
absolutely nothing. God, I hate that.

the pacific is asleep today, her gray blankets
bunched at her cold feet. i look for rest

but it isn't peaceful, it is dreamless -- and i
with the stuff the stars forget each day

i find a shirt, but is it time to dawn
or instead run down the Andes to the sea

where the blankets will keep me fresh enough
to be swallowed and enjoyed?

i find trousers, but are they my size? will i find
comfort within, or instead find my manliness strangled

my demons revealed in an awkward bulge
that seems less obscene unclothed?

naked, the thousandth day passes and i know
everything about thirst.

i would explain the deep red burns along my neck
and the sun-dried unravelling of my skin

from elbow to hand. i grab you and pull you close
this is a sigh, you tell me -- but i know better

and we ravage the love, until it is a spent ball of anguish
smoking a cigarette telling us both,

I never knew
i neer knew it could be this good.