Slow as Centuries

All morning dump trucks rumbled up and
down the street. Derrida Demolition
wrecked the Lake Isle Hotel.
This evening I watch
yellow dust as
it settles.
So.

Big Lands

Amo rode out on the mesa with Bobby Bluepony.
They hunted stars like lustful astronomers.
The house kept quiet by the creek.
Smoke rolled around the horses.
Something slithered in dark.
Bobby was humming
like a guitar string.
Rocks fell near
and across
the path.
Blow.
Up.