Wednesday, May 18, 2011

EARTH ~





Alden Van Buskirk




Muted Terror




I am dreaming.

It is pleasant to dream.

I dream cars churning

corners below this porch.

They are not circus wagons

or signboards boiled

open by the sun. Dreaming

they appear as colored sores

issuing from the stop sign.

They are not water, though sun

dances on their glass backs.

Nor can I ascertain their depths

for their reflection breaks from

the limits of chrome.

To dream the motors? It is not

possible except as the sun and the

weeds pry their hoods off in future junkyards.


A blue one displays its thousand broken suns

swinely, dark head in; the window severs blacknecks,

it soars drunken above

the others, a bleeding fire.

This is a car not a bird.

It terrifies beautifully.





from Lami
The Auerhahn Society, 1965








FOR A VERY LONG TIME I HAVE BEEN DRAWN TO THE ABOVE PHOTOGRAPH OF THE POET, MAYBE THE ONLY ONE THERE IS, TIPPED IN BY A LOYAL HAND ONCE UPON A TIME INTO THE POET'S ONLY BOOK. THERE IS SOMETHING NOW AND FOREVER IN THESE POEMS AND FOR YOU IF YOU CAN FIND THIS BOOK. THE POET DIED IN HIS EARLY TWENTIES IN 1961.