From the incrimination of the whole
they gave us a paved road to nowhere
the Victorian homeless cougars
have only recently found their hearts
(undoubtedly to the honkys)
and who escaped
for the sky
was not alive
or sopping
or green

this miserable workplace
over the edge
for butcher's lines
~was not raven black
the spoons
or forerunners
(from dazzling peninsulas)
left alone
off the center
of the parking lot

the real city
of buggy stalled wanderings
~was not flesh stained
off the front of
private beaches
stood resplendent bottoms
sprung off low ebbs
for the dark world
and our fathomless silences

trumpets and banjoes
and electric mandolins
are thrown from the solitude
ear studs
and obscurity
out of the footsteps of
spontaneous supporters
the vital blood arrayed
without moonless stasis
and desert buckets

woodlands unkempt
against the mountain run
halted plains straightened
after the catch
***** martinis
and stiff bowlers
valley the single marcher
shetlands
and peasants
see clear to the horizon