Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
~ Robert Pinsky
April 2010
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution- NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.
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Thursday, 29. April 2010

Boom Rush

I just read in North Dakota
There is a mad rush underway

For the black gold hidden
In the prairie’s belly.

Grapes of Wrath writ in real life.
But all the rooms are taken:

Hotel rooms, motel rooms,
Trailers, backseats of cars,

Tents, Wal-Mart parking lots,
With a serpentine waiting list for everything.

So the Joads are forced to cling,
To squat, to brace themselves against

The bone chilling wind and the coal heat
In whatever silver of space the body can fit.

How much space does a body need?
The heart sometimes feels like this:

Filled with syllables’ black ink but unable
To find a stanza’s room to inhabit.

My Poems

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Man O' War

Perhaps it was the French
Warship steaming by the city,

Seen from a height, imperious next
To the coal barges, shark-gray in color

Under a cold blue sky, which
Dredged up in memory today

The stoic coldness in Adrienne’s eyes
As they steamed through that farewell.

My Poems

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