Lounging in my Underwear

  Santa Fe Right now, I’m in a colorful local diner on the side of the “Old Las Vegas Freeway” just outside of Santa Fe. I love mountain towns, and though Santa Fe might look different than Vail and Tahoe, looks are deceiving. I’m at over 7000 feet in elevation, and I can feel it. The air, though thin, is so clean, and the sky is ink-black at night. Skies during the day are powder blue, far above the smog that intrudes on Los Angeles. I love the creosote and manzanita-crested mountaintops. The rust sand contrasts with green scrub in a near-illusory way, with warm golden sands and flame orange buckwheat to round out the southwestern palette. The high desert is a magical place,  This morning I slept until 10 before enjoying coffee and an hour-long chat with my AirBnb host, Dana, who is wonderful. We talked about our travels in the UK- her life in Wales with her Welsh husband, and my abroad in Sussex. She told me about her time as a comparative religion professor, her youth in DC...

Author’s Note: I just wanted to give a heads up to any close friends that read this blog- this poem is definitely (there’s no way to say this that isn’t embarrassing) erotic, though I hope in a sensitive rather than sleazy way, so please consider if reading any further is gonna make you feel uncomfortable (I totally don’t blame you if it would).  … Desert Green Our little corner of the earth- You know the place- The one where I take you, late at night When you fly into LAX, And I help you escape the cold chrome of Terminal 5- And drive you out to the middle of nowhere, to thank you for enduring the hell of a cross-country flight- That place, our place Is robed in springtime green. - Have you ever seen the desert in bloom? - The buttercup petals of Jerusalem sage,  Adorning lanky stalks like mink stoles, A protection from breezes chilled by the coast, And the lavendars and greys of San Luis sage buds Sweet and round, like a child’s cheek.  The chaparral whitethorn perfumin...