Rogue Poem: "New Pripyat, Ontario"
New Pripyat, Ontario
It takes an
ocean in any direction.
Understand
our ancestors died
before they
could devour us.
The cold is
still. Beams
split the
mile-wide mushroom cap
where
antennas huddled / two days
in a
Colorado low.
Escher’s
hedges
seizing with
chickadees,
Monet’s vial
seeps
snow-blind
down creek;
as imports
assimilate / quietly
retire at
the ribbon-cut,
grass doughnuts
ebb native
beneath
evergreens.
I peek the
sidewalk antipodes
for North
Korea / between cracks
whether
they’re scratching
however
remote.
Winter, 2013.
Winter, 2013.
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