Kendrick Lamar is COLD. ICE COLD. Like, wowowow. I know it's been out for time, but HUMBLE is mad - got all kinds of vibes from that. Head on fire plus the robe/cloak gave me Pentecost/Acts of the Apostles vibes, the visual beauty of the thing, and of course the bars themselves-- amazing. Anyway, moving from King Kendrick's liquid nitrogen levels of COLD so much so his head needed setting on fire, to heat and dryness. This is my day 17 poem. I heard about musicians being exiled to the desert in Mali (I think) recently, so this is very loosely inspired by that.

Enjoy

Bare Dry

deserts are usually dead lakes or seas.
dig far enough and you'll find the bones of fish or oil (dead plankton juice).

i dug and hoped to find what's left of my
imagination. if i had a drill
i'd let the heat blow through holes in the ground
and make a flute of arid soil.

if only i could make a drum or harp
of sand and cracks and drying trees to beat
or strum. i can't and so i played myself.