I went to Nevada

Aida sings to my daughter
In the dust-hazed desert
Siren songs to my daughter
Sitting by her trashy trailer.

Old costumes stuffed under the bed,
A greasy stove and a pyramid of dishes in the sink
Ripe strawberries heaped in a pottery bowl
And a maternal mantra.

My daughter roams the desert with Aida,
Barefoot on the playa, nomadic and free.
Aida braids my daughter’s hair with careless flowers
Sun-drunk, her mouth strawberry-stained.

Aida croons wanton lullabies by the black rock
Banging on a tin drum with rusted rebar
While the wind spins pretty zephyrs
And my daughter claps her hands.

Aida and my daughter live in a floating world
With psychedelic sunsets
And canopies of vagrant stars
Vast brilliant and heedless.

Heedless of the filthy trailer
Heedless of the rusted rebar
Heedless of me.
They sing together in the desert,
Aida and my daughter,
Heedless of me.

by Judy Copek

About the author: Tales From the Playa

Tales From the Playa

Tales From the Playa are dreams and memories of events that took place at Burning Man, as told by participants. Submit your story here.