Hollywood Indian

I lay me down

across the metro tracks

Bless the parking lot where

I kissed a city ndn

There are lullabies downtown:

the desert moans at night

bringing the smell of cold

or a bloody nose

White hippies smoke, waist-deep

in overwatered native gardens

We never did go to Amoeba

but we kneeled at Puvunga

I cannot dream this highway vacant

nor assume these lights are godless

I always wonder where the ghosts are

& if they still celebrate the living

Headlights hush through our window

in the eternal language of the grasses