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Going To Bolivia
The Mountain Goats
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(It is the only appliance that grinds the grain into flour
And kneads the dough in the same container)
I cut myself a two-foot switch from some tropical hardwood nearby.
And the sounds of a carnival drifted miraculously
Through the air from a thousand miles away.
The monkeys jumped from tree to tree.
It sent a deathly chill through me
In bolivia
Wildcats I had never seen claimed places in my room.
Animal noises rang through the thick brush like voices from the tomb.
I saw the freshly polished chrome
Gleaming in the mid-day sun.
And I knew that you were coming home
To bolivia.
Hey hey