middlesea
i that bastard of the prairie where beauty sits sways dissolution of me among sky and grain moving through tall grass space reclaimed by tall grass hawk over rabbit runs storm swell man grills a johnny cake on the flanked hoe blade on that hill that seemed impossible among this flatback auburn carpet bomb the golf course with wildflower seed anarchy or apostate prairie vigilante green air green breath summoning the rain a downpour like a war or wet judgment
why else would we have risen to two legs if not to traverse tall grass
Like I said last week, another prairie poem. This may be an accidental trilogy. I first structured this poem with line breaks but then realized the blurring of boundaries was critical to the image. Each time I read this poem aloud words belong to new phrases which call to mind, for me, the way prairie grasses move together in the wind and slightly alter the landscape anew.
I recently read Memory for Forgetfulness by Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish, a book that finds refuge in the limitless sea. The plains echo this feeling, extending to the far reaches of sight and imagination. Two sentiments (paraphrasing) stuck out to me: everyone has their own way of relating to the sea, and getting in the water is fundamentally an act of dissolution.
Lately, I’ve been stumbling into new approaches to mapping/placemaking. Last week I mentioned PrairyErth: A Deep Map and this past week I was in New Orleans (surely a poem about the magnificent Live Oak will come soon) and I stumbled into Rebecca Solnit’s Atlas series, notably her collaborative work on New Orleans: Unfathomable City. It’s an incredible testament to a place and the power (and fruitlessness) of boundaries.
Similarly, I continue to be drawn to and feature images of songlines in my poems lately. Navigation as music, place as song.
With Gratitude,
I really like how much language is at odds here, sometimes with the land, sometimes with ideas. “Bastard”, “apostate”, “impossible”, “war or wet judgement”, etc. It suggests there’s something beyond our imagination, or how we imagine ourselves, in the prairie/in nature. Meanwhile, it also feels like there’s an adoption of a new religion amidst the apostasy of old ideas (modernity? Golf courses? Etc.)
An absolute ringer last line. Combining our purpose with a practicality, and giving meaning to our being.