The Economy of Gristle

The human condition requires that we want more

Who denies us and overlook who seeks

The rare resource like gristle, our tongues are engineered to salivate

The acorns stored, but rampage the fresh carcass

The ironic contradictions of supply and demand mastered by the golden gleam

Coal burns and diamonds last endeavors

Glimmering pebbles in a creek bed

I speak and become like pulverized ancient seashells

Foaming out my mouth in dust of Santa Fe hill timelines

Of seeing where the ocean covered the desert in faded abundance

Pondering a desire to love like a caked shackle

In the expression of want one becomes rolling thistle 

Enamored hold to see the resurrection of painted gray into colors flaring

Her blue eyes like midnights kissing the Goddess breath

Time vibrating into water for the horse at journey’s end

The reciprocation like lioness indifference to a passing antelope

Thinking of her feels like jaws crushing my hind quarters

We are drawn to pain like the challenge to become more like Jesus

Conquering the forbidden smashing dynasties with aloof indifference

The pheromone of passion calling for the rapture

God, my god; what must I do Lord?  How many prayers?

Meditative child pose on carpet weeping on a Sunday after a Saints loss

New Orleans feels like dying wanting who does not want

Like a plaything for evolution’s hand and God’s cackle

Licking up the gristle