you are a wilderness

racing the rain
while we keep up with the
clack of the tobacco planter
hustling to rip sorghum starts
from flats and then place
them into the rotating
rubber grabbers
i sing/announce

commenting on the coordination
it takes to stay stocked on starts
while placing a start in every other grabber
shared with the person in the seat next to us
who places a start in the other every-other grabber

doubled over at
field-edge laughing my
giggles out
eyes watering
at some stupid joke i
couldn’t help making
but can no longer remember
this is what that machine does
to me
i say pointing to the ancient

tobacco transplanter

compromised i update my team-mates
on the frisbee field
about my physical condition
the swish of the tall field grass
brushing up against
maroon truck
while we up and over the
neighbors hill as orangegold orb
dips down in horizon
how movement
makes magic
it’s going down

we’re yelling timber
you better move
you better dance
let’s make a night
we won’t remember
i’ll be the oneyou won’t forget
tookie and i sing
at sunsetty sky

like a spine i say of
the strip of cloud (feathered
resembling vertebrae)
roughly paralleling horizon
sky-spine baigz says

feet dangling from trestle
in anticipation of train two
train-whisperer tookie says
as the distant light haze nears

why do we all have to grow
hair four-year-old oden asks
preferring baldness

shimmer of
lightning bugs in pasture grasses
as we night-drive past
while mooon rises
light copper to our east
unmapped i say
you are a wilderness
what makes you feel insecure
she asks unsteadyfirst thought i respond
i get a lot of security from
having as much information
as possible (specifically about situations
before going into them)


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