Rhonda Robison

red-dirt roads

* another fork (not in the road)—the six-pronged kind—a stab at nerve / ends a long journey; yes, a fork in the road. i pick it up, a scepter used to poke the dead. put it in the recycle bin. what it might become.

* earth opens up. worms in her tracks. you water over. pretend not to notice. a wasp back-floats the last lap of dog-dish / dulled by solar sting / and another thing i am saying / enough inside these mind-cracks to show / this / image as your own.

* not enough water. cottonmouth. cracked palms read by dry tongues with nothing about a life-line. swervy skylines curtained in dust. tumbleweed ghosts in mirage. ubiquitous water-tricks. cottonmouth. not enough cracked palms. nothing about skylines. tumbleweed life-line. swervy tongues of dry ghosts. red palms. tumble-tongues. mouth-tricks. red cotton. rattle-head / ghost-life. swervy.