Collecte Works (37 page)

I walked

on New Year's Day

beside the trees

my father now gone planted

evenly following

the road

Each

          spoke

J. F. Kennedy after
the Bay of Pigs

To stand up

black-marked tulip

not snapped by the storm

“I've been duped by the experts”

—and walk

the South Lawn

Mergansers

      fans

            on their heads

Thoughts on things

       fold unfold

            above the river beds

“Shelter”

Holed damp

cellar-black beyond

the main atrocities

my sense of property's

adrift

Not burned we sweat—

we sink to water Death

(your hand!—

this was land)

disowns

WINTERGREEN RIDGE

Where the arrows

       of the road signs

              lead us:

Life is natural

       in the evolution

              of matter

Nothing supra-rock

       about it

              simply

butterflies

       are quicker

              than rock

Man

       lives hard

              on this stone perch

by sea

       imagines

              durable works

in creation here

       as in the center

              of the world

let's say

       of art

              We climb

the limestone cliffs

       my skirt dragging

              an inch below

the knee

      the style before

              the last

the last the least

       to see

              Norway

or “half of Sussex

      and almost all

              of Surrey”

Crete perhaps

       and further:

              “Every creature

better alive

       than dead,

              men and moose

and pine trees”

       We are gawks

              lusting

after wild orchids

       Wait! What's this?—

              sign:

Flowers

       
loveliest

              
where they grow

Love them enjoy them

       
and leave them so

              Let's go!

Evolution's wild ones

       
saved

              continuous life

through change

       from Time Began

              Northland's

unpainted barns

       fish and boats

              now this—

flowering ridge

       the second one back

              from the lighthouse

Who saved it?—

       Women

              of good wild stock

stood stolid

       before machines

              They stopped bulldozers

cold

       We want it for all time

              they said

and here it is—

       horsetails

              club mosses

stayed alive

       after dinosaurs

              died

Found:

       laurel in muskeg

              Linnaeus' twinflower

Andromeda

       Cisandra of the bog

              pearl-flowered

Lady's tresses

       insect-eating

              pitcher plant

Bedeviled little Drosera

       of the sundews

              deadly

in sphagnum moss

       sticks out its sticky

              (Darwin tested)

tentacled leaf

       towards a fly

              half an inch away

engulfs it

       Just the touch

              of a gnat on a filament

stimulates leaf-plasma

       secretes a sticky

              clear liquid

the better to eat you

       my dear

              digests cartilage

and tooth enamel

       (DHL spoke of blood

              in a green growing thing

in Italy was it?)

       They do it with glue

              these plants

Lady's slipper's glue

      and electric threads

              smack the sweets-seeker

on the head

      with pollinia

              The bee

befuddled

      the door behind him

              closed he must

go out at the rear

      the load on him

              for the next

flower

      Women saved

              a pretty thing: Truth:

“a good to the heart”

      It all comes down

              to the family

“We have a lovely

      finite parentage

              mineral

vegetable

      animal”

              Nearby dark wood—

I suddenly heard

      the cry

              my mother's

where the light

       pissed past

              the pistillate cone

how she loved

       closed gentians

              she herself

so closed

       and in this to us peace

              the stabbing

pen

       friend did it

              close to the heart

pierced the woods

       red

              (autumn?)

Sometimes it's a pleasure

       to grieve

              or dump

the leaves most brilliant

       as do trees

              when they've no need

of an overload

       of cellulose

              for a cool while

Nobody, nothing

       ever gave me

              greater thing

than time

       unless light

              and silence

which if intense

       makes sound

              Unaffected

by man

       thin to nothing lichens

              grind with their acid

granite to sand

       These may survive

              the grand blow-up

the bomb

       When visited

              by the poet

From Newcastle on Tyne

       I neglected to ask

              what wild plants

have you there

       how dark

              how inconsiderate

of me

       Well I see at this point

              no pelting of police

with flowers

       no uprooted gaywings

              bishop's cup

white bunchberry

       under aspens

              pipsissewa

(wintergreen)

       grass of parnassus

              See beyond—

ferns

       algae

              water lilies

Scent

       the simple

              the perfect

order

       of that flower

              water lily

I see no space-rocket

       launched here

              no mind-changing

acids eaten

       one sort manufactured

              as easily as gin

in a bathtub

       Do feel however

              in liver and head

as we drive

       towards cities

              the change

in church architecture—

       now it's either a hood

              for a roof

pulled down to the ground

       and below

              or a factory-long body

crawled out from a rise

       of black dinosaur-necked

              blower-beaked

smokestack-

       steeple

              Murder in the Cathedral's

proportions

       Do we go to church

              No use

discussing heaven

       HJ's father long ago

              pronounced human affairs

gone to hell

       Great God—

              what men desire!—

the scientist: a full set

       of fishes

              the desire to know

Another: to talk beat

       act cool

              release   la'go

So far out of flowers

       human parts found

              wrapped in newspaper

left at the church

       near College Avenue

              More news: the war

which “cannot be stopped”

       ragweed pollen

              sneezeweed

whose other name

       Ambrosia

              goes for a community

Ahead—home town

       second shift steamfitter

              ran arms out

as tho to fly

       dived to concrete

              from loading dock

lost his head

       Pigeons

              (I miss the gulls)

mourn the loss

       of people

              no wild bird does

It rained

       mud squash

              willow leaves

in the eaves

       Old sunflower

              you bowed

to no one

       but Great Storm

              of Equinox