1.22.2003

A couple of old midwestern poems, for all you sophistercated urbanites out there in blogland.






RADIAL

Seen once in the distance
behind closed eyelids -
an old country town,
afloat in the depths
of heavy black earth.

Speechless seeing,
the child's eye
obedient, peaceful,
nursing in the blood
such slow harmonies:

the rustling elms,
and houses ripening
in the summer light -
tentative longing
rising from the streams.

What equilibrium
shall we embrace?
And formulate what
loving circumference,
what fateful gift?







MIDWEST ELEGY


On infinite plains,
Among seedy barns leaning
On edges of small groves of oaks
Just off the quiet roads, there
Everyone knows, serious life
Is elsewhere. War simmers
On the east coast, Dream
Shimmers on the west, the rites
Were unbelievably successful -
We fell in love with Marilyn
And Jack before their time,
They gave their lives, articulate
In the labyrinth - a consummation.

The storm comes later,
Up from the south out of
The shifting void of the sea,
When the words are lost
In a tumble of low tides,
The glittering mirage left
Drying among the fishbones
On the shore. Out of thirst,
Out of the dry salt and dust
Of unforgiveness, the storm
Gathers into itself -
Listen: dark silver sound,
Against a screen of long-
Abandoned, broken summer doors.

And what was I doing there,
Riding my father's car
Over the dirt roads toward
Sundown, dumbly tracing the
Scent of your skin and hair
In empty loops around the careful
Plots of the abyss, my fears,
The sad compass of mothers,
Fathers - this useless, neverending
Unemployment, this adolescence,
My slow heart beating, gathering
Desire and fright to approach
Your ramparts glittering on high. . .

An angel with flaming sword
Turning every way stands guard.
I remember our walk down the
Narrowing point into the swamp,
Behind the derelict drive-in
Movie lot - two young adults -
And finding the torn-up porno
Magazine at the edge of the water.
I remember fifteen years before
The fat kid in the back seat,
Under the ghostly drive-in screen,
And the distant lights of Minneapolis,
Kneeling long ago in the graveyard grass.

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