green cigars and their particulate smoke,
my guitar tuned to D for Dowland
because fantasias circulate the blood.
Once more I need the Brothers Hernandez
and to explore their abandoned spaceships
and villages of true heartbreak and dust.
Once more I need topographical maps
of my region to trace from hills to lakes
perfect symbols of the familiar
wanderings and haunts I had the time for.
Once more I need rumors of tornadoes.
Once more I need us running from thunder
to emerge again by a shattered tree,
even the singed chips and splinters like gifts.
Once more I need to feel assailed by ancient
fears in a brave young body. I need
snow in Iowa, especially snow
crusted from here to Lincoln, Nebraska,
and the flakes that dance in a cold sun.
That's where I meet you in your long red coat,
and there is no future for us, nothing
ever happens after we see ourselves
on that frozen street not looking ahead
but into a store window and slightly pale.