fling my name graffiti-style
onto any ancient granite wall climbing through
wyoming’s plains
use my ashes as graphite and ink

tumble my crumbled bones down the rocky
slopes where sage will grab hold and
later tumbleweed me around and
journey me over train tracks and dirt roads

wash the remains of me into the platte river
so i can be the whorl of what salvador and manuel loved
who my father loved
who are granite and rivers on their own

write my name with my ashes
on the earth so that the inevitable
gust will shout me out loud
and i may speak to you from the dead

when you’re done
rinse your hands
dry them with the air
allow me to evaporate

so you can see me when you
look up