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
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.
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.