Hey Darling, there’s something I wanna tell ya.

I was coming out of the Big Boulder pub on the edge of my desert;

there was a trail in the sand like someone was dragging a bag or

somethin’.

I saw that it zigzagged up yon dune, so I

followed it.

Over the shoulder

and onto the next, and the next,

and the next, then a gravel track that led to a stretch of open scrub;

more dunes, up and down,

past chalky skeletons, rusted motors, hoary old tree stumps;

I guess there was a change of climate out there.

A donkey’s head on a post laughed as I passed;

sometimes it’s hard to know if donkeys are laughing,

but this guy wasn’t all there.

I followed the trail for hours; at sunset, lay down and slept,

slept solid.

Next morning I followed on, over a sea of sand,

later some dried out riverbeds,

until, guess what,

I arrived back at the Big Boulder.

I’ve gotta tell ya, I’ve had this half-molted anaconda

skin hanging from my knees for ages. It’s a total drag.

And you?

How about you?

How’re things in your desert?