ɵut fɾom the sǻges


June 15 by The Running Son


Joshua Tree, and shack – click4source



ɵut om the sǻges

It’s true. I crawled out of the desert,
and it’s true I saw things there.
Care for skin, and water, kept
me supple, though. Fair weather friends

and flood troubles did help me
double out of there, a flight
from the rubble of wilder darings:
forty days of abdicating care

and losing juice to the dry air.
Bare me. My soft skin proves to you
the holes I’ve homed in
and the mystics I’ve known,

and de-boned. I’ve sinned to the marrow
then sipped it, all 62 percent humidity
dripping down me running
down our thighs. Perspire with me.

Tonight, at the edge of this
great mesa, may we breathe us–
wet salt-musk dripping off lips,
lubricating the chafing grit that

deserts leave tired sages with.




by Jim Aldrich

All Poetry by RunningSon, aka Jim Aldrich

.namaste.   -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •-   .namaste.


12 thoughts on “ɵut fɾom the sǻges

  1. FlutePlayer says:

    40 days in the wilderness.
    From Qatar’s desert with respect.

  2. Reblogged this on The RunningFather Blog and commented:

    RunningSon is leaving the desert!

  3. rookswriter says:

    I adore the description in this piece. So gritty and real, it’s hard not to get into it.

  4. 1WriteWay says:

    Reads/feels hot like the desert. I love the “wet salt-musk dripping off lips,
    lubricating the rock chafing grit.”

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RFB editor Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013

RunningSon aka Jim Aldrich, Joshua Tree CA 2013 | This site is dedicated with the deepest gratitude to Dr. Cláudio Naranjo, whose writings gave me life.

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