Posted on

there’s gold in these them here hills.

I came here for what now?

an earth-sprung desert toll booth

lemme whomp us a rat.

 

all the baby blue sky you can lasso the very life-breath of freedom. no more than  a hot an a cot perhaps now but I I wait for you to wish after more, to work with me, not swipe my yesterdays.  but i am tired now,you’ve waited past my braver dreams.

I see in my mind a cister against a windwill clanking up well over 500 gallons of water an acre.  I se a terrace of sedate century plants for the shed. perhaps you’ll see youre way clear to get us some salasa in?  I see so many days whe nothing can stop us from putting in  another cistern to make us a fountain to rival the spas of rome.  however I wonder which of us wants after the kiln – you or I?but what will it matter when the breath, freedom rocks a shaded hammock.  everywhere you might see failure for it isn’t store bought but ours and of no more or less soul that we tossed in that particular day.we know much of the magic money won’t come of humility but a kind of kitch, savvy saying said in paint pretty across their new coffee mug or her goddess symbol slapped across a mortar  with a ruder shaped pestle – yes, imagine her glee making grandmommy some rudely fresh salsa- it’s rather silly the dreams of the young and the freedom of the to bestow a raised eyebrow.

while we wait for each age to come in? will you help make some stew?  yes that  can of burn diablo dark. its for black chicken mole. it goes good with coffee.  by next week if you want we’ll have a grill to entertain your friends.  they can have the house…toll booth you say, shall we charge rent?  nevermind, there is a coverlet that if you’ll help me heat these rock to tempt our less friendly critters away from us we’ll sleep under the stories you pluck us from the stars.   we can have a working tub by lunch time tomorrow.  any dream sve stealing mine you’d like.

Advertisements

About Starman Jones

Everything and Nothing interests me. I cook read, write and even have to clean. I SHOULD NOTE: I'm 40 something.

8 responses to “there’s gold in these them here hills.

  1. I could live in such a place, for a few days, anyway. Walsenburg, Abiquiu, Jemez- all worthy of a writer’s turnaway from the boisterous crowd.

    • 🙂 it was a lazy dream 😉 but yes flash fiction whoop missed that some verbosity… I was looking up actual adobe bricks not the superadobe method. this lil one caught my eye. not more than i need. reminds me of the movie madadayo – the times the professor awaited better including a fish pond large enough not to hurt the fishes backs.. projects one many whatever time that allows no more than one needs.

  2. kaylar

    (-: love my/your/our world.

  3. HA! Your title made me snort-laugh! 😀
    As did your poem! 😛
    Tiny houses are in these days…so I guess size doesNOT matter! 😀
    A great write and photo pairing, J-Man!
    HUGS!!! 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s