Oasis_v4

Part 1

Imagine the desert reversed.
A waste of water
that squeezes your own
right out of your skin.

So desperate for a speck of sun
you see lights down there.
Images warm and dry
places only that land is.

The desert is
an ocean’s carcass
evaporated into
an un-urnable pile.

The sun bears on it
mobius mauling
mountains past
into sand that slinks
in clocks
slowing the bleached vista’s
development in your dark head.

It will get you praying for
even a dusting of rain,
that just gets the heat
as wet as a dog.

Part 2

The only wind is
the constant pant of
the creepy man
standing too close,
too much to be all at once
hot rotten whiskey wheeze.

Bits of small talk sand cling
to your every drop.
Then you see her,

a cigarette smoke apparition.
You wash your goggles
down with a glass of water
hoping for a better look
before you lope.

But you’re still there
too suddenly,
and everything is

her name.
She says her name is
Lantis, for short.
This dream will be
sunk by morning.