Even its tilted geometry resists our civilized template
The surfaces of the municipal flood plain are not
flat but neither are they random as are the low
roiling local humps framing the town never
upending a tractor often disappearing in the tassels
These are rivules puffed with generational sod
a space involved deeply on one end by a circle
of ancient oaks and their contortions buried
water lungs flamelike arms culling the suns
claiming two of four directions at this point their
Greatest pleasure derives from the release of their
heaviest cares giant rotted gnarls or lightning
spiked organic god spears that can scold bobbing
in the soil but not enough to fill bely upstage
Mthyuh's purpose and dominance here
This is the message of the municipal flood
plain and it can be apparent to any pilgrim
merchant worker present here tonight:
"We can hold this much, this far."
Look, now, to her horizons
A true flood would lap at our
waists but this emptiness is a
well of safety as well as for
vainer beasts a lost sum of
acreage for feral ones a
Habitat mating arena
range map and
for all a space to look or
swoop upward and see or
join the grander patterns of the clouds.
Swirling Pond Heavy Sewer Grate Dedication
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