This is our first series (with a loss in formatting), second soon to come to a blog near you.
The Fall Bones
The skeleton of Young Park, a pleasant carcass, proud
and tall and through its ribs we see the Organs,
breathing behind light posts and spontaneous greenery.
Naked trees trace the white-smudged blue with
dark capillaries.
You don’t know what your purpose is, and neither do I,
so I think we’ll leave you at that.
Meanwhile, we watch your angles strengthen the
shadows of entropic children, forgetting
that you are desert.
"A" Mountain
Will this be
the new rush of building
upon building?
The cities tail is lashing
across the mountain paths,
shreds through desert brush
and burrows. This is where
an anvil sits. And the desert will not
plant in asphalt.
Collage
Atomic Tangerine
Atomic tangerine
______________– rush
water in suspension
______Ashen orange peel
of blood risen up
City and desert
______in dusk and you
______refuse, subsumed
velour wrapped
______________arching hue
wind curves around
_______________you
_______________burnt alive
Very interesting how the blanks are working in this piece. As a reader, initially, I attempted to think of a word that would fit into the blank space. However, since anything was coming to mind right away, I moved directly to the available word, in which, that particular reading of this section didn't take affect the poem's message. Interesting! Great way to play with the page!
ReplyDeleteVery lovely. I used to live near Young Park, and never really saw it like the pictures you took. The second photo looks very much like ribs--which brings me to the association with the soon to be developed land. Those ribs--seem to signify a carcass--something gutted. Yet the desert will not plant in asphalt, a striking image, seems to produce resistance to development.
ReplyDeletea las cruces mad lib?
ReplyDelete