The desert, when in full swing

of parching you dry,

will always compound the problem

as you seek to stay alive

reckless, thirsty for some meaning

as the words of the day become stagnant

you wait for the Earthquake and dream

of French fries, a bowl of cooling

ice cream or a thick, headache inducing

milk shake, or just a snowflake

to drift down from the heavens

and make you feel like Superman,

or at least give you hope…

compounded and complex,

so thirsty, you realise it is too late,

you have gone past the point

of being hyphenated.

Ian D. Hall 2018