I got my dream pills.
They’re wrapped in tin foil
And it’s going to be alright.
I got sweet Billy with me
And he’s still breathing and
It’s beautiful, what they’re telling us.
Got my enzymes, a nickel bag of
Electrolytes. My entire life,
I’ve been waiting for this.
I got my radio on.
I’ve got it hooked into a chip
And lodged inside a suburb of thought
In my brain, somehow.
And it’s weird, how it’s wired.
I can hear the fires.
I can hear the daisies
As they fell the desert.
Pretty machete like
Paper Mache confetti of
Dropped cluster bombs and now
I can hear the Black
Hawks wild in their swarm and
I’ve got my horses and
I’m holding beautiful Billy in my arms.
It’s like a song.
- Cynthia Cruz