Bear, Wolf, And The Dream

South of Tahoka, in the chaparral,

dust devils twist and shout,

horny toads expand and sway,

while Old Man watches and listens ...

"Wolf would tear out their tiny hearts," Bear says.

"Lay 'em out like a liver platter. He'd pinch out their legs

to help along their metamorphosis or fill a jar full of the fuckers.

Looked like he had a bunch of wiggling olives.

He'd spend the whole day popping them

against Don Navarro's house."

"Fuck you -- we all did that,

but you the only one that ate the little bastards."

"Old Man," mumbles Bear, "I dream of tadpoles.

Their hearts ferment in my stomach.

All night the croaking disrupts my dreams."

"The croaking in your dream wakes you?"

"No, it's me, croaking, that wakes me.

One day, while I ate my lunch, a fly landed on my tamale,

I flicked my tongue at it. The funny thing is,

I caught the son-of-a-bitch and swallowed it!

What the hell! I'm turning into a fucking frog."

Outside the windmill creaks and clanks,

the dogs snarl and snap, the horses snort and neigh,

and the cattle bunch together against a swirling red world.

Old Man motions and Bear and Wolf draw near.

"Listen," begins Old Man, "go to Frog. Tell him your story.

Leave as soon as it clears. You must go to la laguna

over the northern hills. This is the only way.

It is your spirits that are distressed."

They agree, nod, say their goodbyes

and quickly leave.

Old Man watches Horny Toad sway, his mouth wide open.

He taps him on his head, and his tongue shoots out.

"What do you think, horny one," he asks.

Horny Toad hisses half closes his eyes and squirts blood.

"Cabron," Old Man yells, spits, and wipes his mouth.

"Hasta mañana," he says, rolls over and falls asleep.

The next morning the moon eyeballs the silent world.

Its light breaks on the yucca trees and cuts the earth

as Venus desperately hangs in the morning sky.

The glow illuminates the path through the mountains.

The ranch hands wave goodbye, shake their heads and snicker,

as Bear and Wolf ride into the green darkness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beneath the green darkness is a mirage

or is it real,

what lies beneath the dark,

the green darkness.

Her mouth,

like a mother fish

protecting her young,

holds a thousand frantic tadpoles

that feed on her soft tongue.

When Bear and Wolf see this, they cry,

because they remembered her beauty,

how lovely Frog's daughter looked

covered in moonlight,

in cold light,

in light

and

all those frantic tadpoles

beneath the green darkness

enveloped by dead light.

Bear croaks and croaks,

Wolf jumps and jumps.

They rip their shirts

and, croaking and jumping,

hop into the brush

their voices fading in the night.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On the 7th moon, Frog visits Old Man.

"I dream of bears and wolves," he moans.

Old Man watches Horny Toad sway, his mouth wide open.

He taps him on his head, and his tongue shoots out.

"What do you think, horny one," he asks.

Horny Toad hisses half closes his eyes and squirts blood.

"Cabron," yells Old Man, then looks long and hard at Frog.

"Does growling and howling in your dream wake you," he asks.

Frog gazes out the window

spellbound by the one-eyed glow of the moon

as it breaks on the yucca trees and cuts the earth,

and Venus hangs in the morning sky.