Neopoet.com

I get stuck in places where loved ones have left me,
haunting an intersection of mangled machines.
Sitting drunk underneath a faded sign at Kovac’s Korner feeling dirt fill my back pockets.
Staring at distant city lites that have begun their march across a valley floor.
 
But my heart  
keeps  
pumping  
in a body  
that feels  
so  
damned  
old…
 
If you lay back on a sandstone outcropping in the middle of a dark Tempe park  
you can see
starlight  
fading,
 
And that is truly ancient.
 
I leave a part of me at yet another location where I was abandoned.
Crawl into a new fresh pink skin to begin again.
 
Mariposa is such a beautiful word for an evolved form of grub.
I still get pimples of sandstone working their way up through my pores.
 
I no longer live in lands that gave me birth.
I have found a place to live for my death.
Full of heat and humidty…
not unlike a mothers womb
 
A place to grow young once more
Where small hands pull me to my feet  
Soft voice in my heart echo’s with
“Daddy its not that far over the next hill, trust me.”
 
My heart  
keeps  
pumping  
in a body  
that feels  
alive once
more.
 
I am Mariposa.
 
-DS Baker