The Earth Is Not Flat

Abandon

83 Abandon On my screen, the hut is wood Beams, light and shadow, a ship Breasting rough land. Someone has just Stepped out on deck, leaving me A cup on the table, a book, a lantern Waiting to swallow its flame Alive. One chair knocked Askew. What furniture I have Rearranged for this. Because it is Shot in black and white, I see Its past—the scene, not the photos—as I am Abandoned to the air of something Kept artfully. From here no one Can know if there are ghosts or how to live Inside where I cultivate light Or abroad in the vast emptiness, where I am Never as wild or alone as I’ve felt. Mere 84 Suggestion in the arrangements: air Bottled, trousers on the line still Shaping a leg—you’ve heard all this—long Gone. Here, dog harness And biscuits, nail-studded wheel and oil To feed the motor, gooseberries and currants and salt Nobody ate, the dead Penguin nobody salted and the books Left to read or burn, spiked boots And dog bones I’ll never have to gnaw, men And beasts also composed of light And mind as durable as we come. ...