Aspen

no switch gas burner in a basementsteam engine fires up ancient geyser hot springs  sulfur pots with rusted algae.Newsprint crumples, opens, thin dead branches that once held deciduous leaves of ash,but mine have the cancer from burning the spores fly into stars, embeding themselves into beetles brown disease that plague forestWhere's the girl scout fire buildinglighter fluid chemical cancer?Tolene   encaustic paintermixed dry pigments lead poison is a bitch
I slept in a loft on Industrial Street above  railroad ties where men huddled in blue plastic condos.When they die of cold exposure, lost dollars they gathered begging on freeway off ramps on Popov vodka and crank.
Mayor plans to build forty houses at four hundred thousand per unit.Reporters herald the plan.What of the other eleven thousand on the street?Luxury construction costs,  I do for a living. Why does no one question the price? 
Crescent moon cup waits for rainshe's the yin to the mountain below he turns the other wayI'm afraid to go out the bolteddoor at nighteven if I'm out of firewoodplan ahead or use down comforterslayer many over in case when bad guyscome they cannot shoot through thepadding
Aspen trees are a grove of one connected like railroad ties.

Caroline Gerardo ©  Aspen Poem