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Poem: 'Riley the Mountain'

2008-10-20 - 1:04 a.m.

There is a mountain,
Fenced by ferns and willow whips,
Standing four feet high.

It calls itself Riley.

Asphalt menageries,
Are bound on either side,
A cheap tex-mex place,
Renting the parallels.

Swathes of forgotten burgundy,
Stalk trailer trash seeds,
Switchback to and fro.

The wind is on welfare today.

Brown roots are body shops,
Hiked up tresses of bent earth,
Awash in milkshake and pee,
Upended by circumstance.

Riley is a mountain.

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