road trip

i built a house
around a blanket

unjustified by certainty
with a melodic loft
of rusty hues
and messianic prophecies
Wheat, grass and seed
its fine
one can resist surviving
an onerous happiness
rhetoric of the old good time
if you traverse like the Salmon
to the south
if you find my house
past the bold crosses
at the border
and deep water canyons
look for a wonderland
of red rock
its the face of the weaving

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