Poem #81

Where did they go?

for Millionaires row

Past the green treaty line, in a gulley,
past the green treaty line, in a gorge,
past the green treaty line, down a hollar,
picking up a fossil of the valley ,
pressing its brachiopad of business to the tongue,
pressing its salt taste to the tongue,

archaic in industry, yet one hears industrial sounds,
at the bottom of town,

a corpse of economic collapse chews,
a corpse of economic collapse flutes,
a corpse of economic collapse sings
in joy, in pain,

of that ole’ money,
of that ole current,
of that ole’ love it bought
of that ole’ art it bought,
of that ole’ feast it bought,
of that ole’ history;

one looks around, presently,
and sees no tube is lighting what comes to the world visually
and sees no tube is lighting what comes to the world soundly.

One looks into the cables of forest composition
and then feels the sun
and then feels the wind
and then feels the bark

entangling the trees.

8 September 2012
Revised 4 November 2016

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s