Mississipi

Mississipi

Too bad for you men who do not see that in the depth of the reticule where chance has deposited our Mississipi eyes

there waits a buffalo sunk to the very hilt of the swamp’s eyes

Too bad for you men who do not see that you cannot stop me from building to his fill

egg-headed islands of flagrant sky

under the calm ferocity of the immense geranium of our sun.