Volando Bajo

Hot eyeball in the middle of a desert road

outside of Indio, California

could it, would it,

was it Chamaco’s

looking for his dad

who was dead

Chamaco rolled

the mountains out

sifted desert sand

poured out the contents of the sun

at his feet

sweet

Chamaco knew the outcome

his fur rolled into Palm Springs Airport

bounced off the runway becoming a jet

his manhood folded up like landing gear