Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Attempting Patrick Lawler After reading a poem in Feeding the Fear

Patty Hearst Dreams of Persephone Lost On Cadillac Mountain


A highway runs through your dream.  Harleys rumble,

Hell's Angel Harleys, and big semis.  A little platoon

of matching yellow cars flits through the semis, a flock of goldfinches,

a school of fish.  You spot a deer standing at the edge

of the road, know it is about to die, to be thrown

up over the hood of a red car that will careen into an SUV.

They will roll in the ditch at your feet.

Crumpled.  You want to wave your arms to head off the deer,

but your arms are timbers from the mast of a ship.

Somewhere, fog.  A ship founders on rocks.  You know now

you're dreaming because you wouldn't mix metaphors,

awake.  You're trapped in the dream, surrounded by Harleys.

They're revving their engines, skulls grinning.  Soon

the deer will drown

and you will fall


through green water

in the limbs

of drowned deer



Mary Stebbins, 060329c, 060328b

I am certain of nothing but the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination- John Keats

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