#2,548 A Desert Campsite

This is a place of no signals
on devices – routed by one
[parked – it briskly shrivels]
& so finds no agreements –
Ze Masada? – Re-located –
facts jar offline in campsite
chat – a jaded download of
my less played catalogue –
Our late risings gather – tri-
generational timings – then
we enter recovery phase of
coffee & our cool reprieve –
a stir of consciousness out
of dislocation – Retreat into
paper [broke books & news
brought as back-ups – just
in case] – No escape – yet –
Yom Kippur’s godliest rule –
we will stay until six [less a
threat of death from godly
souls on our data-directed
return west] – dust-bowled
& sat beholden to a sunset
& sight of a star to break it
[allowing us to drive home
across this ill-fit holy land]