The springs that flowed When I didn't understand their origin The messy, dripping curse of it Distracting the mind And its supposed logic Her pills Tiny capsules raining Tapping on porcelain His "No!" The struggles Once locked in sensual embrace Now fighting each other for Life That one force I never desired to use That potential to usher in All that could ever be Culminated in the whoosh of Breath I state my case: "Who could be so craven as to create more sons & daughters for this insatiable and violent land?" Yet still it conspires to overcome All this opposition with its simple Existence Makes me crave life in my very being Forces the springs to call again Shrieking their purpose Insisting I listen this time As the clock slows I look to the desert With her cool, dispassionate nights Her dry and dusty days With lizards and snakes and cacti And secretly cherish the arrival Of the heat and serenity My very own Death Valley