In the vein of Atlantis


Spring, a project of the Earth.
While she waits for Homo Sapiens
to get over his aggressions –
revert to innocence (a Maypole mirth).

In the beginning... all the begins
of the Beguines... the big
innings.  Whirligig
of river-prairie syncopations...

I went down into the Bottomland,
down to Monk’s Mound.
A Mississippi sound,
a tuning fork of lightning (&

thunder).  I looked into my hand
& felt a gentle eye
look back (speaks Ioway).
Fishnet... veil of mystery... grand

Isis-Life.  Her cryptic tripod
out of Flanders fields
(a Jenna-quivering) yields
Triple-Flem – from Seeker linchpad

over Providence, through keystone
arc, westward... stray
crois (her sunset Gate) –
one orange firetread in the ozone,

warped on muddy waters (surging
to Lousanna).  So
the shield of Buffalo-
Mandan feathers her circlet (corralling).


from Monk's Mound (Cahokia, Illinois)

Statue of Isis (West Branch, Iowa)

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