He burned hot and bright like a
distant campfire, like candlelight.
He’d laugh his howling little cackle
that pulled you into his slipstream
as you made your way along the
path, down the makeshift rope,
repelling over the edge of the cliff
and dropping weightless into the
crystal cerulean waters of the rocky
cove far below. Everything made
him laugh. And almost everything
he laughed at led you to math,
calculating the odds of survival.
Some friendships are like this.
He led me to a burning mountain. He
led me to wildcats prowling in broad
daylight. He led me to a cabin where
I spent long evenings watching
dragons in the heavens war against
the winds on earth below while Jack
Kerouac sat on the recliner by the
lamp-stand fearing the dark. He led
me to the psychic who knew more of me
than I even know and probably still
has all the secrets she summoned
from between my words dried out and
saved in glass jars for seasoning on
vegan tacos for the next visitor she
entertains. He led me to the Captain
who loved her and didn’t speak much
because she already knew his words
anyway. He led me to high ridges with
views in all directions. He led me to
a trailer where a stranger poured
me a glass of bourbon and shared her
cigarettes in the dark.
Her name was California.
She led me to fields of poppies
glowing red with love for all and
none. She led me to highways that
carry hearts to heaven and hell.
She led me to destinations even
deeper still. She led me to kelp beds
anchored to the skulls of conquered
peoples. She led me to endless lines
of barbed wire fences that scraped
into my flesh and instead of bleeding
the wounds poured out cheap wine and
could only be bandaged with brown
paper sacks. She led me to the top of
the steeple of the first mission on
her skin where the air was as thin
as the plot in these verses and where
the smoke has been rising since it
was burned to the ground in 1775.
She led me to her far north where
the trees were once taller than any
tale ever told. She led me to a path
on the edge of a cliff following a
friend as he laughed his way down
the mountain.
And she led me home
