"An ever-intriguing writer."
"A genuine talent."



Little Miss Kidnap Yourself

The mighty Hawk sees all from 10,834-feet.
From far above the dry desert floor of the Cahuilla Basin.
Perched on-high atop San Jacinto Peak,
he trains his nimble eyes upon the Inland Empire below.
And in the darkness, he sees the lights
of the resort community at the northwest end of the valley.
He sees the rental car parked opposite the Mexican restaurant.
He sees the two figures slumped against its hood.
He sees the tequila and lime dancing in their eyes.
I've never "made out" with an American girl before.
This is a first. And truth be told, it tastes a little salty.
Though that may have something
to do with the unseasonal humidity.
Tattoos of the original serpent run the length of both her arms.
Her eager tongue feels like it’s been pierced with a barbell.
Little Miss Kidnap Yourself is charming me but good.
Little Miss Kidnap Yourself is benumbing me but good.
I can sense my pineal gland slowly expanding.
My mouth filling with cordite. Teeth vibrating. Lips pulsing.
Muscle cramps, dizziness, temporary blindness.
She’s threatening to drag me back to her Joshua Tree adobe.
She’s threatening to take me to her ample bosom
for the night, eat me alive
and leave my pale English bones for the coy-otes.
The mighty Hawk sees all of this, but keeps his beak closed.
The mighty Hawk sees all of this, but keeps his wings clipped.
For the heat does funny things to folk
and the mighty Hawk knows this. He knows this only too well.
Instead, He shifts his gaze elsewhere;
Out towards the Western shores of the Salton Sea.
Out towards the furthermost edge of the world.

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