The Mojave Desert Remembers Ron Paul

Desert showers hit the land and evaporate

Before they have a chance to

Cultivate the ground.

Clouds erupt from the horizon

Like cotton bursting out the seams of fuzzy stuffed mountains

And are quickly pushed around by the bully wind,

But the trees shed not a leaf,

Do not even raise a limb

To wave at the passing traffic

On the bouncing road,

Gripped tightly by the rolled-up fist of

Surrounding, pulsing mounds,

Veins drained and dry by Joshua needles,

I light a cigarillo and roll the window up;

It would be a shame to ruin

Such a beautiful hell

With a fire not indigenous.

The Mojave Desert remembers Ron Paul

With tattered billboards

Scraped and clawed by vehement dust

Relocating to grayer pastures;

You on your pedestal and

Me in my car.

The Mojave Desert remembers the message.

Sort of.

The red on white letters halfheartedly broken,

Spelling out ‘volution',

And I'm pretty sure

There was more to it than that

To your imagined coup.

I know which candidate

The Mojave Desert would have voted for

If the Mojave Desert could vote.

The Mojave Desert remembers Ron Paul

Even if I don't.

7:07 pm 2/23/2010