Friday, March 27, 2015
I live in the desert.
I have always lived in the desert.
I am the desert.
The grainy lines of my hand are desert maps.
My body, breathing, is desert song.
My skin is desert. My eyes desert light.When I sit down on the ground I am desert.
By the fire at night I am desert, and the stars filling the sky
with voices and signs are desert.
When I move about, looking after country, I am desert.
Down in the city I am desert.
Standing in the sea I am desert.
When I walk to that government house on the big hill
to tell those politicians that I only have one home
and that home is inside me outside I am desert.
On a city corner with the traffic choking me I am desert.
There is no place that is not desert.
Even that country that has plenty of water and trees is desert.
I walk desert. I talk desert. I sleep desert.
My children are desert.
The food I eat is desert and keeps desert alive inside me.
There is big desert in my heart, animals running in there.
Barefoot I am desert, and in shoes and socks I am desert.
I wear a coat, I am desert, and the big brim of my hat is desert.
When they put me in a cell I am desert.
When rain makes the dry rivers run I am desert water.
Water is life and it is desert.
My song is the oldest song, which is desert.
25 March 2015