Wakefield Mine Jam Session

desolate

 free falling

white rain

licks a desert clean,

tenderly dripping 

scattered sand flakes,

a bruising wind

unrelenting, saturating ajo buttes,

all stoking up 

another jam session

meantime, simmering naked

in this southwest garden, hot mince pies

baked in cookhouse stove

surrounding cityboys drinking cowboy coffee,

wailing on in self-weirdness

riding on through about ancient 

Eastcoast blizzards and hurricanes 

but those boys can drumm through,

rappy scattered 

disembodied stories

laid down in unintentional layers,

each member of the trio

keepin biorhythms goin

while climbin onto this rhythm train

busy spawnin more lucid ideas,

divvyed up equally

aboard a Sunday morning miner's breakfast floor

Huachuca Mts

Wakefield Mine 

December, 1973