A Future Trip

There was a time when
I dreamed of existing
in the Jungle Book-
where loin cloths
held all the secrets and
today we are making home
of a place with no light fixture
in the livingroom
so I attach putty-
glow-in-the-dark stars to my fingertips
and place them on the underside of tables
for tired waitresses and waiters
to find and drive off with,
down the Rio Grande
where a handsome man once told me
an eagle landed beside him
and he never needed drugs again,
so I began thinking maybe
Polaroids fade for a reason
and the letter I sent to a friend last week
is history of these tire tracks
before the internet
set fireworks off in our eyes
and jelly fish oozed from the corners.
Maybe I connected
jungle fever with your hands
when really I could have just
given you some lotion
and been done with this
years ago but now
Jungle Book segues into On The Road-
segues into my velocity
can beat this
once mob mentality dies down
and we sleep in the desert.