CJ Sommerfeld
Staff Writer

 

before leaving

I overheard a man say

when I gettoanew space

I climb to its highest _ place

a bird’s eye view of the new environment
will be waiting

so I climbed on top of the highest sandhill
from all directions — masses

of dijon and khaki

confronted me

a dirt that inhales like cinnamon

a dirt that blends into unshaven legs
sparkling in the still desert sun

you mistake your shadow

for a daffodil dune

everything has blended into a depthless
monochromatic disfigurement

of cream corn clouds

Remember: Out n back

the desert hippy gave me one piece of advice
the first: Out n back

Tecopa

A silence interrupted by the past’s echoes
distorted by the flax hued shapes

wealthy tourists drive in from Perump or Palm Springs
trombone shiny vehicles

and shoes that don’t belong in this barren land
shoes that would bring you out but not back
Where's Waldo?

I wish I wore those beige —_ tearaways

that old, retired people wear

they won't eye me, can't engage

this dust bowl they upstage

the desert hippy gave me one piece of advice
the first: Out n back

 

Photos by CJ Sommerfeld