Armand Poetry

Welcome to Armand Poetry. The poems (and other words) here are composed for my own thought and amusement. Comment and discussion are welcome. -Amore, Armand-

Friday, October 14, 2005

Sprinklers at the Border

There are sprinklers at the border

Lining the dirt road down Goat Canyon
Feeding the native plants on either side
So that the road will not wash away

There are sprinklers at the border

Freely soaking our hats and heads
At the nine o'clock hour on posts
Up the hill to see the bull ring

There are sprinklers at the border

Neatly maintained by guys named Rob
Collecting tires and snipping plants
While Mexicans cook beyond the fence

There are sprinklers at the border

Between Bunkers and Spooners
A large concrete dream of engineering
The hallmark discarded bottles of a wetland

There are sprinklers at the border




I would have never known

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