In Poetry on April 1, 2012 at 11:20 pm

“Timber!”, goes the rapids
With the log-clogged waters
And the lumberjack dancers
And the happy-axed shores
Of beaver-stump forests.

Timber goes down
The rapids, Along
The mainstream currents, Around
The backwards eddies
And, always, out
Towards the lower
Wider waters, towards 
The sea-salt cobwebs
Of coastal consumption
With the sweet tooth
For the fresh taste
Of sodium-free blue.

Timber goes rapidly
Down the wormed-out rivulets
In the hardwood core
Of our red apple planet
To nurse that strong-flushed skin
That speaks a healthy pigment
But sounds a hollowing


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