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.


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