250
RONALD SU'KENICK
mountains this is fun. He walks for hours plays tag with tumbleweed
watches falling stars high on the smell of sage plenty of moonlight
no fatigue. The moon: goes down 'before dawn he takes shelter next to
a rock as he nods asleep he hears cattle lowing in the distance he
awakes in the early sun stiff cold surrounded by beautiful grazing
horned animals
tan
whiterumped white chestpatterns darker head mark–
ings when he gets up they freeze for an instant run off with amazing
speed ''disappearing: up a ' hill ' like ' antelope in a cave painting. He
~alkssouthsotitheast
according 'to his 'map there should
be
a dirt road
somewhere in that direction he walks for many hours
this
time he's
tired he's hot he's thirsty
fiefs
Iosf'
he
hears-the sound of the Brooklyn
riod~eis · phiymg
m'Ebbets:
Fi~id
before
'3,
sellout crowd a hallucination
.~:
*
..
',
*
Y~ing,
waves '
to~a.rd
the hills
atth~
,edges of,' the crowd this is the
fr(!akou~
tent
he~~ys
ill,
that ,you. , .
,'" No says
~oland,.
,
':'" " .
L .' "
'
'
~
,
,
, ,." You' beiter' tell them he hands Roland a mike it's not me
