The rattling thistles are all to the left and down hill.
It's not like the day I did a crotch land onto a pillar and David told me later
A rattler had been sunning himself there,
Nor like the time I bouldered for an hour or so on Platypus Rock and Pete pointed out
The resting serpent between my feet.

        (I would never pick up a rattlesnake but they are always there
        Like queer people and seemingly everywhere.
        I notice how hard the road is and dusty.
        The thistles too, are dry and the color of the road.
        Earlier a grasshopper was there, invisible almost.
        Grasshoppers too are always there like those horrible things I've done.

Their eyes are only for each other.
Their bodies are wrestling and moving and pushing and shoving and constantly rubbing.
Their unblinking eyes are only for each other.
This is more than fun.
The eagle above is forgotten
. The prickly pears are forgotten.
The rats, lizards and grasshoppers are forgotten.
Their eyes are only for each other.
I and you are seeing them rattlesnakes courting.