desert city summer creeping in and there’s the smell of rain and hot concrete mixed with sage and lilac. it’s the strawberries in the grocery store in that pornographic red that make me think of her lipstick and her heart shaped sunglasses and her nail polish.
you can feel that heat off the skin of sunburnt punks in the park in their leather vests with patches that say “fuck the government” and ive got a coconut ice cream cone and i nod because yeah, fuck the government.
you can feel the wild under the full moon picking sage on the land while dirty old trucks barrel by on the highway through the reservation.
it’s the coyotes laughing in the schoolyard and the smell of cotton candy and mini donuts. it’s the creepy lady and her yard sale on main street and girls with armpit hair and septum piercings at the coffee shop.
there’s those cute dudes fresh from the gym in tiny tank tops and tinier shorts and days at the lake and white people looking nervous at their first pow wow ordering indian tacos for the first time.
you can see it in the hippies on their way to the kootenays for shambhala to drop acid and try to find godhead in the middle of a field. ive been there amongst the fireworks and the cattle guards and the wild rides with too many people packed into a van with “love” spray painted on the side trying to drink and fuck our way to nirvana.
the heat gets to me, you know.
and i love it i love it i love it.
hospital vespers 