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{topography} spencer dew I got on-line to see how the war was going And since it was, I ended up with you, instead Or some tricked-out memory, like a greased seal In an empty pit, bottle-thick glass, the smell Of new crayons and popcorn in the tread of my shoes This year’s Independence Day was churchy hot Maudlin, sublime Everyone on porches Pressing beer containers to their cheeks Not that the coordinates have changed Since the French and Indian War But it’s warmer now, all winter And there are a lot less raccoons, no bears Nor passenger pigeons, French, Indians |
