The High Desert in the United States of America

Taos, New Mexico 21 June 2025

THE HIGH DESERT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

The United States of America

Will guarantee you

A nourishing diet

Of tarnish,

Predilection

And certainly judgement

In all of her square miles -

Even in the high desert

And a sort of granola playground

Built in the sprawling shade

Of cottonwoods two bodies thick,

A koi pond with lilies,

Welded sculptures built like

Lotus flowers,

Agave blooms,

Treelike pines,

And ancient runes

Engineered to whirl in garden breezes

Anywhere

In the United States of America.

You’ll wonder if it’s worth it to wait for lunch

In an hour-long line

At an organic

Farm-to-table cafe

Behind an old-timer

In saggy jeans,

A cheap straw stetson,

And an unsure voice

who takes his own sweet time to decide

If the menu is worth his while.

You’ll congratulate yourself

In the high desert

and piñon-rife breezes

Of

The United States of America

For your patience with him

And his hunched spouse.

You’ll get your table

And wait more

And more

And you will finally

Dine well

And for some reason

You will suddenly need

Something you forgot in your automobile.

On your way back to your wife,

(Holding whatever it is that

was suddenly so important)

You pass the

Aforementioned

old-timer

Perched precisely on the bench

Where you had been -

Still waiting -

Like you were…

His straw stetson is pointed

Toward a wallet-sized

Volume you instantly recognize

But your gaze needs to know

Is a

Shambhala Pocket Classic

(The Works of Pema Chödrön)

That he navigates

Slowly

With his

Gnarled,

Ropey,

Driftwood fingers,

Turning each page -

Carefully read -

With reverent care

And you

Drop yourself

The way that you know you should

Now

And forever…

You resist the urge to forgive yourself

Your assumptions

By plopping your ass

Next to his, introducing yourself

And asking the kinds of questions

That will satisfy

Your curiosity

And make his story your own.

Instead, you rejoin your bride

And wonder if you got it right

Until a gush of water

In the playground garden

Hits the sun

to show you

Your daughter’s hair

And the waterfall

You will see tomorrow

And the throat

Of the dragon that saved your life

For no particular reason

On the battlefield that day

When you were un-armored

And terrified and thirteen years old.

The high desert of

The United States of America

Casts everything upward.

Be ready for that

When you get there…

JD Fratzke

27 June 2025

Minneapolis, M

Sculpture by Bill Worrell; Santa Fe, New Mexico

Photographs by the author, June 2025