I was made in California
Born in Disneyland
With a busted lung
And a broken set of wings
So it’s been foot on the ground
And wheel on the road
Up and down
In exile ever since
To a cold and distant shore
Far from the evening palms
And citrus mornings
Roots bound
In the floor of the van
Stunted growth
With a beautiful view
Has been my holy rolling
Double yellow
Single broken
Blood
There’s pain in all these lines
Where the darkest depths
And unknowable currents
Meet this broken body of stone
Veins flowing with deposits
Calcium, quartz, and love
That keeps me going to and fro
And along the way
I record what I see
Because I refuse to see the end
In the beauty there’s a beginning
Always new and free
When through my eyes
The great Divine
Experiences
Me
It’s worth the price of admission
The fee it has been paid
(Thank you Dad,
For the State Park pass)
So now I’ll walk
This authorized trail
Where not even the rangers
Nor their rules can stop
My spirit from setting sail
Over granite cliffs
And emerald seas
Up and down this coast
Where I’ve seen the Law
Lay down with the Tree
And give birth to lonely ghosts
Who tend Earth’s garden
So she blooms in season
And the poppies are their only boast
I cannot hold a flame to their fire
I cannot take it and make it mine
So I’ll use these hands to paint
myself
A simple cardboard sign
With letters bold that spell it out
“ALL OF THIS IS FOR YA”
And you’ll know it’s true
As you roll through the stop
Because…
I was made in California
