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Collected Poetry

    (rd king dot net)
poetry and digital art

Beating Heart, Dancing Feet  

  Desert Life 


And what if...   you found yourself this winter
coming of age in an arid, windy, northern town—
your face lightly blemished; the encircling hills
littered with brown stones.  Working weekends

at a voluminous, discount factory-outlet store
with an unintended innocence perfectly at odds
with itself.  Often losing yourself in daydreams
among the clothing racks; losing yourself again

in strip mall lunch breaks, and catching yourself
staring at a whirling cityscape marred by over-lit,
behemoth casinos—and then again, finding yourself
carefully replacing the trampled items retrieved

from beneath the over-burdened rack displays
as if the act withheld a conspicuous purpose.



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