Wednesday, October 9, 2024

There Are Marvels to Behold

 


Butthole Surfers
Album titles
Are good poetry
Psychic... Powerless...
Another Man's Sac
Rembrandt Pussyhorse
The irreconcilable joined together
That the alchemy might resolve
The collision of boredom
Prosperity & mayhem
America was producing in 1990
Locust Abortion Technician
Independent Worm Saloon
They say Gibby Haynes
Studied business
If I understood this
I might know
The thing that I need
And that eludes me
Sparking into the cobalt night
High above Holy Hill
Diving grey into the waves
Off the ferry to Peake's Island
Shadow-moving along a building
In Milwaukee Third Ward
Poised inside my dream on an island
In the Quetico

Tuesday, October 8, 2024

Children Born Now

 



Children born now arrive
Into this thing we do not know
We know the discipline & long nights
Of the Ice Age
It caused us to scatter
Across frozen straits
To the tips of peninsulas
Deep into eastern caves
Far into western deserts
We know the rhythms & kindness
Of the Holocene
It left us radiant in the sun
But finally drunk & embittered
Among its lush lands & leaping oceans
Which we felt we must conquer & subdue
Somehow giving birth to this new thing
What is it now that awaits our children
Over the crest of the hill?
What is its shape?
What is its breath?
What is its movement?
What is its mind?