Big Dumb Desert

You stand
with your hands,
like a cowboy's,
hidden deep in your pockets.
Canyons of thought form
across your clumsy sandstone face,
arid like a big dumb desert.

Warriors and squaws,
all bare and baby backed,
fire tiny arrows of reason
that cannot penetrate
your thick buffalo-hide.
Tumbleweed
scours the main street
of your ghost town mind.

A fault cracks the crusty ground,
the Rio Grande.
A smile washes across your face
and you laugh like rain,
in a big dumb desert.