 |
| painting by Albert Bierstadt ‘A Storm in the Rocky Mountains-Mount Rosalie' 1866 |
corruptible man, mad mountain
my
faith was
falling
fast
I
arrived by train
northern
depot
whistle
stop
conductor
said
disembark
please and
suggested
another road
winding
paths
fit
me best
a
place for poets
pugilists and perverts
an
immersion
a
worship seclusion
a
place for clay
and
the way
water
will cut
through
anything
shale
ice peaks loom
a
great lodge
roomy
windows
every
direction
another
face
to
remember
servants
blending
walled
miscreants
denizens
of sin
all
my relativity
on
the road
I
met myself
several
times
the
way up here
cloaked
with daggers
at
the ready
evil
fornicates
flowered restless
jaunted by wind
Spring
time is
a raw blade
one
without hero welcome
one never resting
one meant only
to arrest the likes
of me
I
hide myself
on every blank page
purifying sounds
with consumption
in
my prayers I ask
for
a you to give me
a
mask of villainy
killing each today
so every tomorrow
will
be the masterpiece
I
could not find words for
when
you asked me
how
do we fit into
all
the places
our
eyes have
taken us to
EJR
©
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hello there ...