Miles from all the clearcuts, this skin feels it.

Yellow-Hair Custer Termite-Culture

still busy taking women's scalps.

 

Miles from "earth-movers" carving into Her body,

my own muscles separate from tired stone-like bones.

 

Miles from wolf, bear, coyote, fox

all caught in steel-toothed traps

waiting the long night for a bullet to the brain,

my ankle throbs. I shiver. My heart drains.

 

Miles from the forest floors of the Quinalt, the Haida, the Yurok,

I lay my head down here in "Michi'zi'bi";

the soft-gray network of Pacific mycelium

has begun sending messages to me.

 

The messages speak of saturation

impending purification

this DNA changing

merging with the Great Transformation.

 

While modernistas and Floating World-types

lull themselves into another dark-sleep

Game Day

QVC

another episode of House of Cards

 

the real house of cards we are all in

is preparing to receive tough-love teachings all over again. 

They will arrive slowly at first,

then in the form

of giant spirals

of water and high-wind.


(c) 2017 / Saizan Owen / purelandpoetry.com

For more information about the music of Michael Hewett, visit the Michael Hewett Bandcamp page.

 

 

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