Native Texan

Have you found your spirit in the sky,
a white-hot light above the bristled pines,
your Jesus as Willie Nelson,
your Mother Mary as Sissy Spacek?
Have you practiced Feng Shui,
consulted your compass of Black Tortoise,
Vermillion Bird, White Tiger and Azure Dragon,
visited graves in Bremond, spent pocket change
on a blue plate special in Mexia,
endured a pilgrimage to the mecca
of glittering orange oil refinery lights?
Have you dreamed in prisms
of broken bottles, blown-glass and clay?
Have you traveled this hot box of humid muck,
confessed innumerable sins
in this cone of tornado silence, flatland silence?
Have you curled back the borders,
examined the seams,
memorized dried-up rivers,
crumbling missions? Have you seen
all the dead men walking the green mile?
You say come and take it,
but the it never belonged to you
in the first place.