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"Into and Out of Human Limbs and Human Lives" by Walker Rose



I hustled for a hundred years

underneath the shifting sky

the revving of the mythos

the taste of death still unswallowed


I hustled in the disturbed earth

where scorpions raised their tails like

a call to battle

water covered your body like the swimming of hands

like a year and a day of silk gloves

over every breath of skin


I hustled every medium, every flavor of death


I hustled through the gullies where

fishermen’s boats still look like children’s toys

through sun-sucked clay and

passages of smoke

from terrestrial gas stations to

wild ranges and unmapped lights

from lovers’ shelters to naked, open nights


I have hustled blood into hard-packed soil

in foreign tongues, in wars where the heart

beats the marching drum


I’ve hustled tears and I’ve hustled laughter

into arms and legs of those I didn’t

deserve

I have hustled piano runs and numerous prerogatives of dope

every time I hustle art I quit the next day


phony moments in time

as soon as you pull the ribbon it

turns to ash in your hands

I’ve hustled myself

in the style of those around me

phony, regrettable


I’ve hustled every religion, every sign of the zodiac

I’ve hustled the man, the minion, the nobody

messiahs, shooting stars, bags of cheap coke

I’ve hustled confessions like a cult leader

putting a design on death


I’ve hustled rain and sun, drought and flood

desert and jungle and fields of pavement

days and nights that roll into years

the tides and the traffic

rides to nowhere down a sunken road


and where has it gotten me?

where have these roads converged?

where am I now?




Walker Rose was born in Roseburg, Oregon. Raised in Las Vegas, Nevada, he left home to explore a life on the margins of society. Caught in the throes of constant travel, black market farming, and working the occasional odd job, he sought to bring back a story worth telling.

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