Summer 1987 • Vol. IX No. 3 PoetryJuly 1, 1987 |

What to Listen For

Who listens when we talk? This is a questionPascal asked, and answered only with the safebet that someone must, and the question I askedwhen I went through the rain this morning to studythe museum photographs of Nazca ground drawingstaken from a plane over Peru. Etched from the dryPampa, these enormous caterpillars, whales, foxes,turtles, and the animals and insects no one has seenbefore, were meant to evoke some response from the gods.Which explains why they have been so carefully revised.Which explains, too, why they were never finished.It is still raining. How long has he been singing,that yellow-billed cuckoo, while I have been thinking,again, of what you said. The farmers call it a rain crowbecause it signals approaching storms, and becauseit continues, as now, arguing against the waythe rain strips the October trees. It must be callingfrom the abandoned orchard, its rapid song slowingdown at the end of each burst, as if to say how itunderstands the way any love is also the beg

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Unable to Refuse

By Richard Jackson

Who listens when we talk? This is a questionPascal asked, and answered only with the safebet that someone must, and the question I askedwhen I went through the rain this […]

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