Everywhere a vector-vortex,
a 3-dimensional crane-
liftoff. A diagonal plane
of tracer-tracks – trains, trucks,
jet-like chariots surround this
Shriners’ hideaway, where
limping children play.
Mute manger-haven, beneath curious
folksy lunar scimitar
old Buick neighborhood.
Born on Epiphany, you are
a kindly prehistoric whisper-
star, remote but bright.
Hum beneath black-white
acrid mercury bath – Big Dipper
trench-canoe. Grave air-casket
you portage over your head,
smiling beyond dread
fumes of one Martian marble planet...
So every local khipu-knot’s
a complex of the six
directions – Shakespeare’s
skullcap, Pushkin’s troika-stop –
your eschatology through tundra,
Lambent beatitude, then –
shaggy speech, shepherd apocrypha.
John Ravlin, Boundary Waters Canoe Area, MN (1940s)
Woods behind Shriner's Hospital, Minneapolis