Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WHEREVER, by DAVID IGNATOW



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WHEREVER, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Wherever I go
Last Line: He will accept with terror
Subject(s): Poetry & Poets


On the coarse brown hide of the mountain
over its rolling tongue of the road
we drive to the mouth of this carcass
piled above us, in its shadow.
Far into the vertebraed distance
the stubbled skin lies in plains.
Where we see water, it is an open eye
dead to the sun, and when we look up
the sun is its crawling maggot.

Only that a foot leans upon a pedal
sees us out of the cemetery of this body,
dead from before the time we were swamp.
Rubber, oil and steel die beneath us
for our deliverance, and where trees dress
the impoverished sky, our eyes open again
within our burying selves.





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