allured the rails of Baja

one finger dipped in the sea
spiraling branching column
self-encompassing

a turnip root from China

breaks through the other side

upside-down near the road we drive

no branches or exits or roads

silently majestic twisting into the sky

falling up in planes so high

captured the beauty of the peninsula whole

straight and narrow to the cove

dead-end and dry until the bay

the nerves grew sieging upwards

puncturing the sky

our thoughts lay exposed and naked

strange and foreign to our eyes

and I asked you for the words to describe the Boojum tree

lost when we left the stillness of the dream

here in a cold room I try to remember the Boojum tree

somehow numbers don't seem to do

Written and performed by Derek White ©1989