 |
photograph
by John Glenn aka crowolf ©
|
dream
every living thing is a connected ball of twine
whisper
parted legerdemain
some
great road side attraction
like
it was always yesteryear
every
moment thereafter
you
came along
dust
bowl era lens
rumble
seat wooden spokes
and
the invincibility
of
western expansion
stinging
chorus after chorus
with
fertilized melodies
of
plant anything
and
it will grow
this
rich land
mile
after mile
a
sway with few trees
as
far as eyes could see
has
the wind as
a
constant companion
behind
the signs
past
the bright
enamel
come-on
you
could tell the land
did
not want you to smell
what
had transpired
how
transportation
destined
this land
to
have always
wanted
to be
cut
up and raped
how
this great open land
had not
always meant
to
have this hard scrabbled
prairie
grass scratching
and
clawing tenaciously
holding
onto a real slow
beautiful
part of time
how this land
had not always wanted
to hold itself so close
to a spasmodic gasp
when the last
of what it could feel
of itself was peeled
off
and sold as
some sort of
vanity
a zombie addiction
disguised
as
pathway angles
waiting while
playing
haute couture
from
the songbooks
with
a calculus logic
of
pure infidel desire
shiny
gather worship
is
bill-boarded across
every
field, hollow,
mountain
glen,
flood
marsh
and
plain
a
brand
bisected
and
interspersed
throughout
this domain
with
pounded dirt
oil
spit greasy poles
all
strung in swooping
wired
connectivity
telegraph,
telephone
electrical
bones
seeking
flesh
for
constant movement
for
scatter frenzy
for
the collection agents
with
fine mesh
seems
near noon
but
clouds and haze
leaves
a sepia glaze
willing
blindness
I
close my eyes
feeling
sucked in
tunneling
indefatigable
in
the painted lies
I
am lining
the
poems with
drawing
down
outside
empty
inside
almost there
do
I ride dare
open
my eyes
when
the bumpy slide
comes
to a stop
do
I swear off
what’s
left
of
my humanity
to
pay for this ride
EJR
©
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