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XI: First Light of the Mind

_________________________


Poem / Joel Chace
( Pennsylvania )

Art / Doug Beasley
( St. Paul, Minnesota )



farm's fool


hurl it against

the wall       cut the egg

from the wall with your sickle then

put it in a shipping box

                                            FIND

A WATERING CAN

AND WATER

                                 smoothes a portion

of soil       considers his great

luck       turns

                              “we have been

told they are your chickens wandering

our institution’s grounds and you

should know it is not

a pleasant thing”

                                   	WATER

AN EGG IT CHANGES

TO A FENCE

                               first letter of

your name lower case to grow



peanuts and broccoli

                                           GHOST

NIGHT LIGHTNING

                                             dies

like an old cow

                                with each

first light of the mind rising

up out of that ground to

float

                get chicken

prices for your egg

                                       GRAB

THE FENCE IT

CHANGES INTO AN EGG

                                                      your first

cow and use a heart

symbol

                    ten unmilkable

carcasses at their metal feeding

trough       all hugely slumped

like





                YOUR

CROPS

                       float

all day like a huge dream

                                                    “to have to

shoot another man’s 

chickens”

                       THE FENCE

REMAINS AND

                                    can  

grab 100 eggs before the wall

is exhausted

                             slumped like

boats aground in muck       like bloated

dominoes

                         WATER

YOUR 

                    a heart symbol to start 

its name       it will

give good milk







                                 AND UNLIMITED

EGGS ARE

                            but at 

each end of the ludicrous line one

live bossy

                         WATER

YOUR CROPS 
                                      one live

bossy calmly 

                              ARE YOURS

FOR THE TAKING

                                          calmly waits

its breakfast

                            AND GO

TO SLEEP 

                          these last days       blue

salt blocks set by fence-posts in the

dry heat



Approaching Storm




Next - XII: The Distance Still Finding / Claire Fuqua - Aimea Saul

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