To prevent tragedy the brush must be cut an angles,
no less than ten metres between squares.
Here my ancestors planted the buffalo grass
where it burns too hot for the native plants to seed
and we need these squares between land
to stop it sparking all the way to our homes.
After her third institutionalization they suggested
that perhaps my Aunt’s cingulated cortex be severed,
there was too much leaping between lobes.
Now I am the oldest member of my father’s family
not to have undergone inpatient treatment
for whatever fire caused my grandmother’s suicide
and the beating my grandfather gave which sparked it.
I try to hold my line. To be the space
large enough to let it all burn out.
But out of my native climate I arc and arc.