Primal Landscape, 4 Ways
Could you step out into this city, as approaching
the crest of its hill
its amber pin-prick
carillon is upswept: could you
go further, o honeyed black
seraph is unkempt, is rising, spreading
its future as pennons sidereal
but that are not the stars.
But on foot there is no nevering
We turned back frightened by the carcass of a dog.
As if it were your parents,
in the woods, the hairs of your body
before your body knew further. Your parents
in their perpetual wintering. The gibbous moon came
long ossified, done bone
diffuse in the long
unwatched night. Frightened. As if it were
At the end of reverse passage
the plush heathering skies of the canyon
past dusk, and further: could it be
believing in war begins there
still, as the cat on the stony jut practices
its jaw with languor
of the unchallenged: unfueled, knowing nothing
of this modern bargaining, for trust and hedges. And one of us
might have wept for it.
So lessons in basic geography became lessons in how with hunger
to identify the cardinals. Wild, clustered
back country habitations, huckleberry, hunting lantern, sanctuary
in a stand of pines, a steeple of pines, complications
of electronica, railroads, myth of the self-
made man, where is the golf course.
If we were touched it was still a childhood
of strengthened ankles. I have arrived at the end
of drugs so before this
we might tremble.