Surprise

A bejeweled Indian elephant

walked as the beast in me

when I was only 10.

This remained unsaid.

Impoverished, now, as I am

by city streets, and still in love

with asphalt and cars,

I know how I am crippled.

Ah, might as well gather the wind,

as it skips down the lane. Or

capture the ocean; jail every wave.

My death is not that interesting.

It should come as no surprise.

We are a broad uninterrupted plain,

until deep canyons. And at the bottom

of each dark gorge is a wealthy man.

And I still blare the herd's wail.

Still dream of old corvettes.

Maintain myself in weather.

My tombstone a cold, cold lie.