Academic journal article Chicago Review

From I WANT TO WORK

Academic journal article Chicago Review

From I WANT TO WORK

Article excerpt

I led you Eleanor

to this florid lair

they flocked with myrrh and cyclamen

though I dont

know the man they is

his pedigree -

I come from New Jersey. You in all

your futurity were hatched

a pleromatic ingénue

among some infants

in their little copper pans. Your little copper

pan, banged out in the crafts

man's late-period style, design

of your hip, stoop-shoulder.

The warm lizard of your back

I harp on for awhile

before I go back

to my work

which is

to carry

axhandles

from one pile

to another.

Ballarat was sacrosanct / starry

the rambling of an idiot

with no memory

in its low wood ruin / of unanswerable

authority.

My sermon issues

through it like a river

I anchor / again & then

again into the future of.

Far far west

where they tear out the rooms the chairs

smash them with a hatchet.

They don't want it.

Bonfire in the center

sleep outside under a tree.

Still your swiveled voice & see: the Night

known to intimate dying

the maniac gait

the eloquent instinct crazed &

exploded as your nature

will tend to get wide

in these times.

When you stalk the prairie your voice

& the prairie

is all of a prayer together

is a fever you suffer at Night: before a journey

away from the ones who love you so much

they went broke

into some reeds in a ditch out by County Road 8

(way west of West Guckeen).

Where you raise up your arms & lean

into the reeds, simple as that

where you no longer have your head

(I only find the head)

where the city rises from its resource / the river from its bed

the Australians come alive behind their cigarets

& cast themselves to an abyss

beyond the city's edge. …

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