Monday, September 7, 2015

Far Across Anahuac

Far Across Anahuac
© Surazeus
2013 05 14

My hitchhiking trip in 1993.

It was twenty years ago today
we hitchhiked far across Anahuac,
and I played my guitar on city streets
and sang stories about human life.

We traveled far across Anahuac,
searching for the meaning of life,
Simon and George in a grunge-folk band
on a quest for truth across our land.

We left Seattle on a sunny day
and hitchhiked down a rainy highway
through the pine mountains of Oregon
to the rainbow hills around Shasta Peak.

We danced in a San Francisco Park,
smoking flowers woven in our hair,
rode a rusty coupe across Death Valley
and talked to serpents in Albuquerque.

I ate red mushrooms at Jemez Springs
and danced with fairies in yellow pines
then rode all night south to El Paso
and drank coffee in Ciudad Juarez.

We walked in Texas desert all night,
watching angels soar among stars,
and landed in jail with a cattle thief
then walked across a steel bridge at dawn.

We sang country in a semi-truck
then woke in a San Antonio park
on the first day I turned twenty-nine
and strolled crowded River Walk all day.

When our older selves gave us a ride
through the street fair in Austin at noon,
I sang Sounds of Silence to a crowd
who cheered nowhere else but in my head.

Rising like a dragon from waste land,
tall air traffic control tower spread
huge demon wings so I had to laugh
then wrote a poem in black book of dreams.

We slept under a Red River bridge
then strolled Oklahoma City streets
four years before Christian terrorist
bombed women and children for his god.

We returned to magic Jemez Springs
and I kissed cute fairy queen in snow,
walking nowhere in misty woods,
and listened to the howl of my heart.

We rode in a truck pulling a boat
through snow back to California hills,
and we parted ways on a lonely road
where I walked all night under stars.

I dreamed books by library hall three days
then rode a glass bus over treeless hills
where my grandma in a trailer house
took me hiking in Joshua Tree Park.

She bought me a brown suit teachers wear
and while I read Clan of the Cave Bear
I rode a greyhound bus along the coast
through Los Angeles to Seattle mist.

I slept in a hippy house twelve days,
singing lonesome ballads to cold stars
then lived in the upstairs office
of a political action committee.

I fell in love with a pretty blonde
while sitting alone in a grave yard,
reigning as Saturn, king of the dead
in a temple on a hill of flowers.

It was twenty years ago today
I hitchhiked far across Anahuac
Seattle to Mexico and back
on a vision quest for naked truth.

I found myself behind my own mask,
scribbling spells in a black book of dreams,
Surazeus one-man grunge-folk band
on a quest for truth across our land.

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