San Antonio Pornography

hirsute
him in handsome fleece unshaven and stable fair
grey muff to match the desolate greyscale
junkyard no-man land guarded by miles of mangled metal fence
dry river bottom misshapen trees decorated with bowties of blown plastic sheet
pueblo boy with the thin mud-stained lips
pueblo boy unbutton your flimsy blouse flaunt your brown breasts
he sucks in his birdcage
a dingo carrying a flea circus dead around his dusty sandals

upstairs motel shriving pew
a song of intercourse blues through the open window
sleeping drivers pluck the tarmac strings while I whistle green grass
unconscious chords in floating clouds collect along the popcorn ceiling
grey fighter jets fly in and out growling like angry bees
nail the landing
children in dress blues sob with their parents downstairs
in the distant desert dog packs rape my peace of mind
I've been drunk in enough hotel rooms to know where this goes

long pale rider jerking off the ghost of Jack Kerouac
lo, poetry is the granny porn of virtuous craft
one last dying orgasm
tonight I am a weatherworn and dusty cowboy hot from the trail
danger at the edges of my sleepless eyes
dry mud in the cracks of my old boots
a handkerchief bruise from the rope
horny in the town saloon.

TA