Glenn Bach
From Atlas
out in the open air
for a ribbon
of high. With obvious
pride a few new
saplings


          from the past a dead hand     the whole
                                  as a public domain     an esplanade 
                         sunk
                             to the green strip     a bikeway 
              and a promenade     a wall from the street     from the clamor 
                                                                      than the current


                       to put a parkway through
                       to the shore


                                                                           tim
                                                                                 bers rot-
                                                                                               ting    tall
                                                                                      jagged


                                         of landfill     the taboo


about the current shaping     
and the highway
was crumbling and the highway
would be underground


                       we thought New Yorkers would never accept 
                       65,000 cars between them 
                       and the waterfront
Glenn Bach
From Atlas
hardly a ripple of surprise
see enough of what is happening
                                               of w'heat
                                                           white-painted 
                                               houses turned black
                                                                      i     hough     not


                        that pollution is to blame


                                               w' eeds grown 
                                   to the surface               the empty 
                                                           sands
                                                           but look now—high 
                                               summer



after the mayfly               must w' ork
the pickerel vanish~ d
                             for coarse fish
            to clear snow                 or walleye
                        whi | e enriching


in the quality of its fish
since Erie was ~dying to begin with
have grown

                        number of nymphs per meter 
                        in western end, dollar value 
                        in millions, cells per milliliter,
                        sold per year in Ohio in thousands 
                        of tons, consumption in US in millions 
                        of pounds, content of Erie water 
                        in milligrams per


the turtle-decked
water blooms
Glenn Bach
From Atlas
of a city
      the building in the wilderness
                                                       flush
                                                         rundlet
                                                 a noise of trumpets
                                         some cloth
                                                 a chest of white
                                                            of seashell
                                                    sewant     from whelk
                                                                        (white


                                                       mercenaria
                                                     by the thousand
                                                                       furs
                                                                     patroon
                                                                         a raft of letters


                                                                 (dark
Glenn Bach
From Atlas
to stand on grim
street corners
as an emblem
                                   old frameworks into 
           beautiful     beauty     be


down Geary 
an urban doom loop
where none had been


                       a new horse!


                       in San Francisco!


                       a dense urban city!


no beat cop walking


                                   popups into 
                                                           storefronts
                                                           tactile paving & in 
                                                silos
                                                           tenji bumps truncated
                                                                                               domes


                                            throes     if not
                                                     hackles
Glenn Bach
From Atlas
the ocean in which 
the air walls shifting 
their weight. 
What space 
between stars like 


the sea blowing branches 
outside the kitchen 
window from a liquor store 
across the street



                                               nears
                                                           cold 
                                   slow 
           no snow_of color_a leak 
                                                       in rivers_


the ocean 
in which the air swims


between stars


                        erased