is was and will be. by Paul Manski

is was and will be,

going gone to volcano.
creative destructing, 

dangerous and uplifting, 

I'm sure you'll change creative one.

because so much that is, 

is a drag and a burden and must be levelled.

with blood and fire 

with lobelia and humming bird songs.

you a cousin of hummingbird

always sipping nectar

inquenchable-the journalist going 

dream to dream on the back of humpback whales and airplanes,

smooth firm muscled sweaty warm body.
 there's so much to say

...why was she walking along the frozen green river, near the cora Y, with a black dog?

15 years warm healing mud of paria river rubbed on flesh perfect and ancient piñon pines wait for rain

that seldom comes.

When it comes it fills the spring on the cockscomb, 

cliff rose blossoms and mariposa lily 

i left turquise beads in the slick rock next to a great horned owl feather, 

much is sent in the between time

quiet  hours twilight,

 owl moves the dream time...
i saw antelope ground squirrel bones

In the owl scat left on a rock. 

we're eating and being eaten, 

sucking and being sucked,

 kissing and grasping with our tongue the words to say thanks,
thanks for the vows made in Big Horn mountains,

Above tree line on medicine wheel mountain
heard by the wind, 

fluttering and dancing,
 a piece of your fringed black leather jacket

...a piece of our hair tied with string

a piece of our songs and young giddy laughter.
we ate the heart of a road killed deer and fed the rest of the meat to wild black dog.

there were times when lava rocks barked coyotes words,

oil derricks pumping all night 

where the tipi was set up 

in Utah near Aneth,
we saw ghosts and old women 

they say in a circle around the fire

clockwise, sun-wise

on their Memorial Day 

speaking to dead lovers in tipis

we walked to Emma's grave

and talked to Charlie Hepworth

digging out irrigation canal

love is eternal and never dies,

 in that circle you sit perky breasts and smooth skin 

I could see young men there 

with thick black hair 

his horshoeing tools and a leather apron, tonight they'll share again a cup of kindness.

sing auld Lang syne and waltzing Matilda

She'll taste bitter musky salty taste in her mouth and

 he'll lay next to her exhausted 

could anything be any other way? .

..is was and will be forever...