Water is somewhere, water in places
Sweet and secret lizards flick and pick along the rocks
You can see the sharp sword of the yucca here
And the steel wool creosote
Something moves off to the left of the road
And a little flag made of an In-N-Out Burger bag
Is blown into a cholla and shredded into shit
By the late afternoon desert gusts

But when the sun sets…
When the sun sets, we are all in agreement
The distant, dusty mounds carefully chorеograph
Their royal purples in a perfеct dust
With the far-valley leap and explosion of gold and red
We reflect the sky for you, the mountains say
And bow like Chinese wise-men

And we, for you, say the facing hills
Rough and crumbled
But for collaboration, location and luck
They are a pile of gold this hour
The edges of the picture turning royal blue
Liquid-slow, deeper and deeper
And the lights in the sky who’d been there all along
Blink brighter and brighter
In between, like the sea, is a long pool of bluish mist
Settling over Highway 62

Tiny sharp needles of the light pierce the veil
Like sparkling fish they swim along the 62 
Either off to Arizona, like little diamond eyeballs
Or down to the city
Or maybe even all the way up to San Francisco
I can see them from here on the hill
As they come, closer, and carry on…
And they never even know I’m there
Up on the mountain, like a coyote, or a spider…
Under a fallen arm of a Joshua tree...
Just up there, on the mountain
To you it seemed to be like nothing, nowhere
Just vast black space with no distinct horizon
But I saw you come, and pass, and go
And you never saw me

He’s in a hurry, and pops one from the 12-pack
He just got at the gas station
Pissed off because the deaf girl behind the register
Couldn’t change his hundred dollar bill

A tired blonde is sprawled in the front seat
Sucking hard on a menthol, chewing gum, absent
Mindlessly pushing the buttons of the car radio
He smiled, a big while smile
Against his creased, sweating black face
And steered the Cadillac with his left hand
As he pressed the cold beer can to his forehead with his right
“I love you, baby. I sure do
I sure don’t know why Vegas didn’t treat us better, damn!
Wait ’til you see Hollywood, baby. I got a man there. I got a feelin’, baby
Hollywood’s the place. You just wait, baby.”
He crumpled the can and tossed it out the window
Off the highway into the brush and tumbleweed
Where it came to rest in the sand
At the feet of a healthy young male coyote
Who looked down at the twisted bit of painted metal
Narrowed his yellow eyes, snarled in disgust
And turned away toward the hills away
And away from the highway
Off into the black velvet desert night
But not without finishing the last drop of beer in the can