Academic journal article Field

Death Wish

Academic journal article Field

Death Wish

Article excerpt

Summer of sweet basil and backyard tomatoes

And sherbet pale as the moon-

I still remember how I craved,

In February, that lost month,

A new fortune of the sun, spendthrift days

Spilling their gold on the frozen ground.

And now I almost enjoy

Even the stink of compost, that good rot,

Hot writhings of weed and corn cob and clipped lawnEven,

almost, those hillbilly lullabies on the radio,

Fiddling around with their nasal miseries.

Shimmer of gnats and noonlight

Over the peppers on the pepper plant, red

As their own incendiary heat. In my donkey years,

I'd just as soon lie under

The shade of maples, as spread a hammock

Beneath some palm trees rattling with parrots.

Here, too, the hibiscus blooms,

Flowers as big as Frisbees,

And waves of lilies spiked along the gutter banks,

And the roadside blue of chicory

Trembling in the long exhaust as cars drive by. …

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