In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

71 THE฀DEER are฀tentative.฀฀Of฀course.฀฀To฀be฀an฀animal is฀to฀watch.฀฀Is฀to฀think about฀eating฀all฀the฀time.฀฀I฀watch฀them฀ be฀so฀watchful.฀฀My฀window฀ takes฀them฀one฀by฀one฀through฀trees winter฀strips฀down to฀a฀few฀species. ฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀ When฀I฀saw฀the฀deer,฀ I฀was฀beginning฀to฀type,฀not฀ it฀came฀to฀me,฀full฀of:฀฀I฀made฀this. But฀two฀or฀three฀were฀smaller฀than฀the฀others.฀฀ And฀all฀so฀thin, each฀forgetting฀for฀a฀moment,฀a฀head฀turned or฀down฀to฀the฀ground.฀฀Then฀the฀rush to฀catch฀up.฀฀Maybe a฀mother฀among฀them. I’m฀hopeless฀about฀kinship,฀which฀cousin,฀which฀way฀ the฀bloodline฀hollows฀out฀a฀life and฀connects฀us฀back to฀a฀pin฀dropped฀once฀in฀a฀field or฀in฀woods฀like฀these. ฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀ The฀poem฀to฀be฀typed— I฀forgot฀the฀window’s฀job is฀to฀disappear.฀฀The฀deer, just฀there,฀drawn฀ by฀a฀leaf฀or฀two฀left฀to฀the฀weather,฀a฀bud฀in฀its฀ vague฀dream฀of฀some฀future— ฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀ mid-sentence.฀฀Stop.฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀฀ They’re฀gone.฀฀Because฀beauty’s not฀generous,฀isn’t฀anything but฀its฀passage. ...

Share