EMBRACE THE EARTH-BORN babe, head lifting to observe lights in the trees. Bluegrass music—bass, fiddle, guitar—moves through the courtyard. The place is packed and I'm pacing to sooth his crying midst this great amplification of sound. His eyes are open, full on me now before releasing a deep, gut-tight yowl. Go into a small room to change his diaper. Venus shines through a window, a tiny silver node in dark blue. Back out the crowd tightens round the stone steps-turned-stage as a young woman behind a big guitar sings Hank Williams. Tip of the Austin skyline appears beyond us, inertly placed under pecan tree limbs.
Little cricket of the rocks
go slowly by my feet.
Late again the day
drags out and night
comes with a crescent moon.
An ancient cell reverie
turns on a warm fuzzy
on the body's biggest organ (skin).
Exposed like young animals
booze line lengthens.
(Crick crick). Beer suds
(crick crick) wet on white stone.