STORMY WEATHER



It took time.
I had to apprentice with mountains.
Grew a belly.
Combed the hair of several wives.

When the people voted
I drove their bus.
Stopped for hitchers
in spite of the law.

Or how it looked.
Hung up my monkeywrench
& walked into those halls
knotted with power.

Treated & tricked.
But with a sweet word
dipped in juniper
& lost gracefully

over & over under & through
until I too be-rainbowed
let the clouds kiss
& disappear

art goodtimes
union of street poets
vincent st. john local / colorado plateau / aztlán
kuksu brigade (ret.) / san francisco