Trickster

Eclogue

30 Eclogue “Darkness / is the everlasting verb.” —Robert Bringhurst 1. Plow Song Tractors Open angry Ruts— Today: The Plowing Under. You Turn starving Inside out— Devour Us— 31 2. The Bait Fog Blockading roads Vineyard— Valley’s Rippling lights, spiral Out— Fool’s Gold, blue Cloud forms— House— Your small red lips— Delicious! 32 3. Field Song Pasture’s last hope— “Mayhap, Mayhap,” we sing To Field’s edge— Weevils, set at thistle’s roots Star Thistle’s Contagion, Bunch Grass left— “Star’s whim, but Thistle’s Hindrance—” 33 4. Sleep “Come Over to my side” She sings— But, I cannot. Windowpane— Red Geraniums, Bees Ding Windowpane— Orange mist In Oaks, Moss Dripping And I float In stone lake Silence— “Wake up,” She Sings— 34 5. Night Planting Myself, like Maple Dead asleep—better you Plant the Bulbs, tuck them In a muddy hole Begin waiting— Corpse light blue Fog Jeweled Chaparral— Moon, half sliced away Rose clouds gone grey— On my garden slope Wind scoured away, Leaves Twigs, Berries, Seed— 35 6. Cabin Fever A single Oak holds back the Sun. Sky, a pulsing gold icon. The Cabin, a shadow against the dark. “Please me,” said Night, but I could not— Rat claws inside the wall— Feverish I sweat this rut you wore In this wide bed, this stone Cabin Colder inside than out— How can we rest? 36 7. Lullaby Unscrew— Pig trough, pink Worms under Ice sheet Unscrew— Purple Sky, frozen Sunflower Seeds, kibble Mice cache Unscrew In Guest bed At fold Nestled— 37 8. The Music Giddy fever Fattens day, each Moment, wobbly— “Find music” Sing Leaves—Is Shivering dance Or wheezing Phrase?—“Find Music,” sing Leaves— “These hours Have teeth—” I say, “Let The Dog give Tongue—” Sing Leaves 38 9. Harvest “Little by little You’ll know—” She says A Poison here A Poison there & we are set to Rally— Dancing. Manic Bee Hums limbs, peers Black hollows— “You’re to Blame” She says— 39 10. The Game She’s plotting— Wind shoves, the Trees Just take It— “Lop the Trees,” She says And I begin to sharpen— “Don’t dither—” She says Pulling a circle ’round me— Everything else Is Poison— “Trust Me,” She says As I begin to sharpen— She’s plotting— Wind shoves, the Trees Just take It— 40 11. Sunset Sunset pins Us—Ravenous Bloodletting We— Most Natural All. So the Body describes I do, I do— Denial is only love. The Mouse is in the trap. “Know your Place—” I do, I do— ...