when
wilderness called
I put
together new sound
armed with
last nights frogs
I turned over
California
torn from my window
in
wind
light
and rain
to let the porch hear
what my heart creaks
wrapped in springs mess
my strange etched village comes
where rain itself washes dry
mean cottonwood's curse
dumbing down even the dirts role
in things
just yesterday
a road moved closer
under whole clouds at night
itching
with used limbs
pinched BETWEEN flat surfaces
and tracks passing a friends house
playing poor one
on damp rivers rot
a simple form rises
OUT OF a dreamt up sky
where
smoked praries walk and pray
forgive me now
im too
distant and old to recall
marsh or bog
where
up to our ears
we found evil in boyhood
a real guilt at home
and a
dirty river whenever we wanted it
where
when
new wilderness called
I made no sounds
Monday, April 25, 2011
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