Saturday, February 5, 2011


We follow the river
black feeder of earth
for miles on the levee.
The decent is long to white houses
that rise from mist and green
ignorant of applianced yards
the tilt of dreams.
I can not see paint peel
but want to sit on the porch and sip
ice laced coca cola, suck corn and snap peas
have not forgotten the pits
and crotches that hang the line
still claim the quiet of morning
laid flat in all directions.
The year that patties came up
to the edge of our bougainvilleas
we grew sluggish from it's gases
indifferent to it's vermin.
We waited on the stoop
with a twelve gauge
and shot at moccasins
our respect unreturned
folded into the dirt
passed down in the quicks of nails
not by right but by surrender.

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