April 11, 2011

What the Men Said

divisions take on the character of said
conflict, sliding into the role as if
to say, ‘here I am
apart’ or something larger

the grandfather would say it
in silence and a swift
whack of power comes
with no context

the men stood around
bereft and swinging for
the fences—fame I suppose,
some sort of immortality

caught up in the sting of
knowing the pain could be lost could
be healed                under

here the men said the getting
was good and everything was
freedom which means pain
inflicted quietly, in domesticated ways

means seven of the eight readers
were men and the one woman was
coined in brass and strung out

here the men are libertine, which means
ancient and schooled in the ways of
creeping posts and grooming the style,
the candor of oppression

here the men said nothing has happened
and will never

ungulate blood

the map was inconclusive and where
we were was a matter of
conversation, gesture, weather

the mother was looking not
for us but for shelter from
our knowing

the books were still

the dull red spots in the snow
are not a cipher but the first
thing that a new world would know