Colorado Journal

1

Rain grey city full of colored cars, mossy humidity.

Totem God carved out the wood of a great and ancient whole tree. Ancient alters of natural stone the moss slightly reddish from the memory of sacrificial blood from long before the native Americans came here. Great tall standing stones. When the Elves where driven out of Kansas many settled in the rocky mountains making divine nectar out of high grade cannabis. Barks and brays from large ravens. Some times chanting squawks sometimes gibbering like monkeys.

Stacks of rocks denote obscure Pagan meanings. Collecting droplets of morning dew in an eye dropper. One by one until the glass is filled. Capes of woven moss. Antlers adorn they're heads, Horn and antler flutes played from tree tops. Swaying in the trees where the wind stirs the trees like a vast ocean.

Horrific wooden masks that never leave they're faces. On death they are mummified in arid caves. Smoking horn pipes. A necklace of living ticks. Wooden masks clack when these people speak. The crow below the mountain the crow encased in stone long waiting s the moutain erodes.

Colorado is past the Wildlands.

A fluctuating distance so that Kansas kids some times see the rocky's out the window. Mad ATV rides across impossible roads , howling, laughing,running straight up sheer cliffs. Coyotes howl as darkness unfolds. Over sized birds peck ripe berries from the sweetest spot , the high branches. People stalking on all fours, on in furs. Waring bear pelts. Tight muzzle mask a dead snarl. Mountain sheep with long curved horns that the animals play with their mouths. Melodic bleatings and roaring night wind. Hippy Women of the valley towns flow around like erotic luscious fruits from another world. The wooly ostriches that towered high roamed the mountains before hunted out by pre-Humans. Feahers that glistned like jewels. Articulate beaks that would weave robes and forge hammocks for nests. I'm sleeping in the back yard with pine cone pillows and moss blankets. In Colorado Elves are protected under harsh state laws. Still an occasional Elf hunt or capture for sexual enslavement occurs. Elf skin gloves for the rich and heartless.

I keep seeing this beautiful Elf Woman. Braided black hair half way down her Mamooska skin clad back. Glimpses of her leaning against a tree. Exotic face of a different human species. She bolts and runs like a deer. Muscled dark legs, lovely legs. These encounters have a game like feel. Like she is not being caught in sight by accident. Then one night I awoke to find her peering into my cabin window late at night when I rose from a dream. I sat bolt upright and she fled before I could get to the window. I'm really feeling something here. I know what they say "Don't fall in love with an Elf". But I have fallen at least into fascination. It's getting hot and humid. Making the strawberries stick together. I've been sleeping naked with just one ancestor woven blanket so I can feel the night breeze. A scent awoke me to see her topless framed in my open window. She was thrusting her breasts forwards offering me to suckle them. I knew on some cellular level that if I sucked her nipples I was making some serious commitment. I kissed licked and sucked her perfect breasts if a delirious fever of excitement that would spill over into my dreams for now on. Things went warm and hazy and I woke up in bed hours later. I almost thought it was a dream, but for the lingering exotic taste on my lips. I didn't see that Elf Woman again for a long time. But I would sometimes in the woods smell the scent that she wore that nipple night. I kept having dreams of her wearing antlers.