Sierra Nevada

W.M. Lewis

i am Lew Welch hurrying

into the hills, vapid fumes of hope streaming behind me;

the entrails of an animal thought extinct.

 

the gun stashed

(not even my friends know i like guns. well they do now.),

but uncomfortable against my skinny ribs, elementally exposed.

 

rap rap rapid words

bubbling so furiously you could ride them

to the mountain top, if such a thing. you know.

 

And this damn gun.

 

the stars blinking on, the day slinking off.

the night welcoming; the salt earth

beckoning my tired bones and feet that

move independently as does that lizard’s eyes.

i forget which. i forget which.

 

After all, this is just a story.

 

i am the silence hurrying

down the barrel, down the goat track.

i can’t get there fast enough. (what

does it mean to disappear? tell me

 

that.)

the place i’ll know or it will know; a

mutual concurrence of exhaustion,

singing like cooling rocks and beasts under the clear eyes of desert.

 

the names of these slopes and valleys

an unrequited love. (dimming now but methinks

that’s just the light.) musical and terrifying. as if San Fran or Chicago never existed.

and why i took it or why it took me

as mysterious as the word

‘posthumous’.

 

And then there’s this thing the gun wants; an irrefutable quiet.

 

as if Lew Welch never existed.