High Horse

By Kevin Hegyi

Happy Holy Days from Kevin and the High Horse! 

This is another poem by Kevin Hegyi (artist, musician, ripper, wise lad, chef, legend) We posted a few others for your pleasure a week or so ago. We thought it apropos to save this one for the holiday. Let us know what you think...

                                                                                       

Still Across America
for Clyfford Still 


And so we waited in Denver traffic
inhaling diesel 
intended to ruin 
all-white convertibles already 
taking on air 
for the great Denver art display 
of Still’s desert landscapes
where perfect monstrous mind
meets 
perfect Denver skylight and 
extends beyond the heart of
that throbbing metropolis 
clear across America
clear across fields of wheat and still erect sunflowers 
clear across the monochrome pallet of Kansas 
clear across midnight towns where all the cars are half of cars and all the people are half of people 
clear across eerie desolation following a sluggish latish spring blooming out of that same eerie
          desolation and approaching mornings 
where doves meet over chimney steam 
and Nissans clamber down pot-holed parkways 
and concrete trucks hypnotize hungover administrative assistants 
and waterless propellers on towed pontoon boats hypnotize the concrete trucks 
and that whole section of interstate really just kind of giving up stopping somewhere 
         high above the river to gaze at the single-engine airplane skywrite “the western wear is in again”
clear above new developments consuming hillside
and men selling newspapers on the shoulders of exit lanes 
and clear above fertile magnolias
and willows with their hair let down 
and down to fishermen smoking vicious cigarettes 
and Hondas selling impotent dope 
and neighbors with bellies above their belts 
and balding buyers buying out all of the used Toyotas 
and shacks with left-out barbie dolls once blonde now brunette 
and the old herons curled like question marks in reflection
and children harmonizing with snakes 
and mothers terrified of their children that harmonize with the snakes 
and cardinals really blowing jazz
and blackbirds really singing loose and watery 
and insects really rubbing their legs together 
and some birds I don’t know really playing the infinite pennywhistle
and the really heavy drone of carpenter bees 
            digging their hourly hotels