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Writer's pictureKristian Zenz

Hoozdo Hahoodzo




October 31, 2073

9:30 PM


The honeymoon that’s dripping sap

Is losing sweetness in an act

Of stripped shame.


Your rosy cheeks now look bleak.


Your lips slip into ellipsis

Pry them open, it’s anarchistic

The air breathes on my neck


I’m giving head to a living wreck.


Sedimentary layers in shades of red

Exposed to air in a dried-out bed


When it rains,

You better change the sheets.


The meadow downstairs sips the mead,

These shades of violet that you bleed

After years of drought, I’ll ask why


Is your canyon open wide?


The dam holding water from flowing

Has lost its lust for erected growing

After years of drought, you’ll see why


Your canyon is growing dry.


I am Mother Nature,

Dreaming of death tonight.


In Greenland, I will melt the ice

In Scotland I will calm the tide

But in Scottsdale, without fail

I won’t let you sleep at night.


Mankind will pay his share

For draining me of a love affair

Thus, I flood the Sonoran;

A monsoon with modern flair.


You push away

Then ask for more

I’m here to stay

These tears I’ll pour


The city, it cries.

The bird is taking flight.

The river is flooding high.

The Colorado is black and white.


Oh, Arizona! I love you so,

But I can’t hold on to you anymore.


Jack o’lanterns will light up caverns,

But none as deep as your own.


The haunting shrill, what a thrill

To no longer be alone.


The monsoon has died

Along the Baja shore.

Only a few can knock

On heaven’s door.


The rain has ended.

A Hallow’s Eve that amazed

It’s the Day of the Dead,

And this is how I celebrate.


 

In just over two weeks, on Saturday, November 4, I will be selling all three of my books at the SE WI Festival of Books! Scan the QR codes to learn more.






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