Winter 2001 • Vol. XXIII No. 1 Poetry |

Wilderness & the American Mind

The land to body ratio; you can't have both she said before the wind took hold.   Afraid to hurt, afraid to suffer more—   what would it mean to stay alive?          ❦ ❦ ❦ The ancestors have never been more agitated, arms & legs hung out to dry, fingers   testing surface tension on the mounds.   Fearful, covetous we made our way across.   Some gates swung open   & we broke the others down.          ❦ ❦ ❦   What is the structure of a curse?   Some murmured revolution & you saw it there—   blood on the road in place of knowing. Then   knowing for sure.          ❦ ❦ ❦  Soon after we arrived I read the stories of true   heartlessness—   I could have sworn there was a map—   too simple to have said they had nowhere to go.   New forms of poverty, a show of force   (why should the tongue swell up that way?).   The kid re

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Under the Sun

By Peter Sacks

The land to body ratio; you can't have both she said before the wind took hold.   Afraid to hurt, afraid to suffer more—   what would it mean to […]

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