The parking lot was full of cars full of dead babies and thousands of court summonses. Then is now. I squat in the lot, looking at myself in the hubcaps' silver. Oh dear, beneath the bright artificial lights nothing is simple or clear. I see and see myself in the pigmented tinsel and the yellow chrome! -- and trust what I see. I felt sure of myself -- was able to approach my own alloy-plated identity! -- that great American wasteland! -- with some sense of chronic calm! And I stood up and cupped my eyes peering into the nearest car and after that I gazed at them all car by car till I understood that each infant death was my own. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMMORTALS by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN IDYLL 6. CLEODAMUS AND MYRSON by BION THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 48. FAREWELL TO JULIET (10) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT GLENDEN'S DREAM by EMILY JANE BRONTE BATTLE by CHARLES BADGER CLARK JR. |