the dry river rolls under my bedroom window
when the wind blows
the trailer shakes
the dry river moans
it's hard to light a pipe
the dry river crosses a dirt road a quarter mile from a place no one should go if they know what's good for them
i followed the dry river into a valley
i thought i found a pot of gold
it was something else
i don't remember what
at the head of the dry river i meet a tree top tall thinking woman cooking hot dogs
she tells me to be careful
i feel a flood coming over the horizon
a big one
the stars are falling
i smell fire
i walk my dog across the dry river into a field of cactus i yell jenny! she turns around and looks at me turns around and runs away to a dumpster behind a bar that eighty-sixed me for falling off my stool six times at two am it doesn't seem like such a big deal
i sit in the dry river bed under a bridge reading a book of poetry by mao tse-tung
i walk the dry river with my daughter looking for flat stones to skip
at the foot of the dry river the tree top tall thinking woman is skinny dipping in the sand she looks amazing i wave she laughs and tells me i told you so you crazy bastard
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