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I have an apartment in Tustin;
I have a job in Huntington Beach;
I'm trying to rectify appearances with reality...
I'm trying, but it just won't reach!
Into the great Mojave,
under the skies of blue,
it really makes me wonder,
what is illusion, and what is true?
Days, I repair electronics;
nights, I surf the 'net;
but something is definitely missing...
what it is, I'm not quite sure yet.
Into the great Mojave,
under the yellow sun,
the confusions and lies fall away,
and the game can almost be won.
My hobby is hacking computers,
ISA PCI UNIX and DOS;
sometimes I dream in BASIC,
but sometimes I just feel at a loss.
Into the great Mojave,
Moonlight of silvery gray,
the west wind blows a gale
and the Joshua Trees gently sway.
When I'm lonely I listen to music,
Enya, Moody Blues, and U2;
but sometimes I long for someone to share these feelings with...
someone, perhaps, like you?
Into the great Mojave,
dusted with snows of white;
The Milky Way splashes the sky
in the deep black night.
Robbie Hatley, October 24, 1997
I wrote this poem in the evening, during my usual one hour commute from Goldenwest Transportation Center in Huntington Beach, CA, to Larwin Square in Tustin, CA, on board an OCTA route 66 bus. I had the song "Into The Great Wide Open" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers running through my head. I was thinking of how beautiful that tune is, but how the lyrics start-off good, but then crap out. What the hell does "a rebel without a clue" have to do with the great wide open or with skies of blue? So I rewrote Tom's song for him, using the lyrics he should have put in the song himself!
I corrected the 6th-to-last line of this poem on 1-27-98 to put it back to the way I originally wrote it. (I had previously shortened it to improve the poem's rhythm.) I like it better this way, even though it screws up the meter of the poem.
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