1.
To go into the woods
willingly alone
and living with your
feeble mind
as if it were a glowing stone.
Or to bring your slinking cadre
of sweaty men with their cloned dogs.
2.
The spring, of Detroit
when you return:
still a leaden
diffuse blur,
like pewter pount
by none to few
sweaty, meaty
squarish hands,
drawn up tight
—by flesh and sinew—
to your self-same
sweaty men.
3.
They return.
Over the bridge from Canada
or else by the filmic tunnel
knowing this and only this:
"This age defies,
it's warp is subtlewar."
