Anthem

What does town do?
With its ashes dug well–
conscience-burning rot
Clocked its cutout tongues

Sucked off the years
And fluked into fate
With grit and shovel
Anthem’s flamed holler.

Don’t mouth concern, star.
You pushed them over
The edge of the drum
Into red and blue despair

Stoked your rafters lined
With acres of pink bluff-
So thick the snow won’t melt.
And see, dusk’s turned its last eye.

Fetching Dickinson

She Selects
Her Own
Society

Words of
Her Mind in Motion–
Perpetually

Abstracting Image–
Disintegrating Time and Place

Apprehending
Meaning–

Until Words
Create
Company

Her Chamber Safe–
From Modern inference

And Absent
Presence–
Strange Beauty
Reveals itself
In its Shining
Permanence