Grand Canyon Blues
An emptiness is drawing every
atom of my life into
its rock-hard cavity as ravens
slowly circle down towards murky
coconino sandstone, hermit
shale, then river rapids running
over zoroaster granite.
O I feel so sad and lonesome
that I hang my head and fly.
Wind is blowing through the canyon
in my soul conceived in ancient
history and dedicated
to the principle of past
and past the desert desiccation
of my heart as hard as vishnu
schist and zoroaster granite.
O I feel so sad and lonesome
that I hang my head and cry.
Sun is shriveling my life
in lizard scales of logarithmic
memories and dark formations
from my childhood fossils captured
in the quartz emotional
depression limestone metamorphic
echoes zoroaster granite.
O I feel so sad and lonesome
that I hang my head and die.
~Son Rivers 2006
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