Glass Legs

West of Eden, West of it all
Laramidia's where my bones should fall
take me up to the montane plains
nestled between the fruited ranges
this wrinkled crust brings great relief
to this dusty otter with octopus beneath
nevermore the great Seaway
just this desert where I stay


electronic insistent clouds of iron filings
like buzzing nests of insects surrounding
echoes of our own creche and developments I hear
critch and cratch and murmur-gurgle chitin over wing
discard again another moult becomes another thing



bolas whirl and whistle like
memory of skua strikes
terns in thousands over seals
now the Rio Grande flows through my veins
the Colorado was my creche
those would be some shreds of me
some rags torn off my tapestry



stones in mowers throwing sparks
illuminate the suburbs dark
hawks look on down from eyries fair
see the drones thronged over there
going along their certain paths
every day like worker ants
some never leave their cul-de-sacs
until their final heart attacks



orchestral hits to escalate
this cold war just got hot
move the tanks and flank the gate
inch our hit to top the pops
unleash the wall of sound
put someone pretty up onstage
Clyde Stubblefield's boots on the ground
now that is how you earn a wage



a tumbleweed van huge and heavy
gusty winds are always ready
young pioneers but katabatic
carrying seeds not automatics
this new world is very unforgiving
learn what you can to keep on living
let's do this just like old John Lewis:
Get to work adapting to it