understanding a desire for lawlessness
when there's enough space left to un-govern:
houses strewn with snow, built
in an effigy of unwed wind--it's breadth
speaks in such a terse ostinato--piercingly,
she says it's been enough time between
cities, she says there's going to be something
grave tonight, says she's going to a show
and she doesn't, but she says she did
it's softer that way, languid
and so very becoming. our legs look long
in a place without sewers, city tunnels
for the sickly creeping vanish in this place.
vanish is a word for city widows, vanish
is a place I'd go to in the bible, is a light
and irresponsibly vacant state of mind,
is a stop on the highway, is fifteen years of
snowshine, vanish is where I'd go to die
if it fits in the itinerary and out here
I reject the expanse, I resent
the chasm between swaths of highway,
grass lays about the ditch without
a hint of intent, stays there until
we are so turgid and brown I can't breathe,
I can't breathe, I won't on purpose. I said
the terror I feel in this place is ineffable,
it came out as I'm fine with a wash of fear.
it came out as dead eyes and no heart.
so I said to this place--
swallow my name, I'll be home soon.