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Home / Issue 35 / Turquoise Hope

Turquoise Hope

By PW Covington

We lay in my adobe refuge
Smoking
The world dies outside


Summer often ends abruptly in the mountains
We keep to ourselves in such seasons


When this ends, I want to
Take a vacation, she says
Somewhere far away and foreign
Someplace I can hide
Invisible and muted
Deaf and unaware
Of the chittering, native, word-sound-voices
Above all your vices,
She says


I fill that room with smoke
Sativa curls caress the pine vegas
Reminding me of bingo halls
And sawdust floors
And steel guitars
And red dirt roads


Iron oxidized like blood vessels
Twisted around property lines
Mesquite posts and barbed wire
Defensive


Basalt over sandstone
Copper tears dry into turquoise
On nights like this
And the parking situation has not improved


I nod and I hold her close until
She’s snoring
Every dream-filled breath of solitude and slumber


All I want to do is rejoin the galactic and fantastic
Human shit and shine show
The cum and go show


Casino sunglass Saturday night show
Gospel mirrors and Cotton-Eyed Joe show
The mask and pony
Serotonin and endorphin show
French kissed like a 220 socket
I want to jump back in and swim in it
All of it, 1990’s leftover sex and patent leather
Baptize me in your lack of better judgement
I’ve been made of stone too long


It’s all about the breath this year
Aspiration and ventilation
Inspiration, greed, negotiations
Basalt over sandstone
Bourbon over ancient, icy, things
Subtle turquoise hope

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