The Chasm of Doom

The stars traced long arcs

The coyotes howled in the dark

And the spirits came out to play.

Between great granite stones

Haunted by the wind's quiet moans

Went we, somewhere ne'er touched by day.

And oh god, how we feared

Yea, even he with the manly beard,

That this Chasm would spell our Doom.

Asked now, I could not guess why

Under that forlorn night sky

Sought we such an earthy - and perchance early - tomb.

Yet with the situation frightfully grim

And our headlamps seemingly so dim

Onward journeyed we; left, right, up, and down.

Then above, the bright stars of Joshua Tree.

At last we were finally free!

The next day we ate pizza in town.

So, a few nights ago in Flagstaff, Arizona, I was having my parting dinner and drinks with the Megs and Matt Steele. Mr. Steele notified Megan that she had recently had her debut on the blog, then proceeded to give me shit (albeit affably) about writing incredibly mundane "then this, then that" prose in that post. "You even left a comment telling people not to read it! What's the point?", he said.

So here Matt Steele. I wrote you a fucking poem. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Joshua Tree gallery