Falling Rocks

(Picaro for Picara)
The land drops off from dullard hills
to fall beside that well-walled hole to
make breaths short  next drops again
to flaming gorge across the green where
no one hears us when we speak for all those
drops so no one cares nor can
they see that point of road where we have
crossed and made no sound that we’re
about with our no cares save only
that of  knowing

we are on the road   Picara    we
are on the road.

This boat from Mitilini hits
Chios far too late at night but still
disgorges all those trucks flying
back past Agamemnon who
dances through brash MS dance while
Lesvos lady  Macedonian lass  dreams
forward of Agamemnon’s flinch   his
shrugs    the pirouette    his wish to
die truck-crushed upon a Chios wharf
but Lesvos lady  and I too  care
not for dying in sight of Chios

Macedonian lass   you Picara   we
stay out to sea.

That snow flying low across the road so the
kid she says its like Kuwait save trading
snow for sand where desolation’s all
the same with pump jacks sucking
oil above to barren wind blown
grounds where both of us have once called
home as much as any other place we’ve
known so this road hides beneath the
snow

but you know Lady    Picara    we
are on the road.

Halikas of the falling rocks and lookout for
those pirates   and Halikas Papa where’s the
house that binds the Lesvos lady here on
rocks that watch the strait   beyond the
strait to spy those bones of Hector but down
in Malyvos from falling rocks   in Malyvos at
night where girls descend to sailers below
the rooms of Yannis and the Niki we fall

like falling rocks she knows   this Picara    we
always ride on falling rocks.
Sechelt  12/2010

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About Steven Nickeson

I've been a cowboy and a hobo and a truck driver and a newspaper reporter and magazine editor. I've written two text books on Native American property rights and been awarded national prizes for investigative journalism. I've ridden horses, all named Alpo, damned hard in the Westerns. I was once a range detective for Santo Domingo Pueblo and a private investigator for 18 years. I've also been a manuscript physician and writing tutor and journalism teacher and consultant to a literary agent. I've been a fencing contractor, and a welder in one of the most beautiful opera houses in the world and read Nordic Runes as a contract oracle on several psychic hot lines. My occupation for the last 19+ years is "Artist/Blacksmith" and I've done better at being an artist than any other calling. For nearly half of my life I have had an address along The Pan American Highway (Carretera Panamericana) in five cities/towns/villages, five counties, four states, two nations, two continents. I am in some way wedded to that road. View all posts by Steven Nickeson

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