Tuesday, 26 of September of 2017

Tag » King

Kevin Bezner – Bison, Montana

 

Click Here To Take Action To Protect The Last Wild Herd Of Buffalo!!!

buffalo_big
Buffalo, people
call them, shaggy
beasts shaking

heads at flies, sun
on backs, chewing
grass, saliva

stringing from mouths, slowly
stepping to water troughs. These few

hundreds once
millions, the land theirs. Grasses

bend to wind, dust
from rolling
bison, tourists roll
Buff
down windows, lean
far out of cars for

pictures, no fear from
this distance,

not even when one takes to hoof
to stare them down. Why
fear such dusty

creatures, dead to them
these many years–they were told,

“Take a trip
into history, and before
you leave for home

stop to eat
the magnificent flesh
of the prairie’s king.”

Kevin Bezner
Dec. 21 1992 Earth First!


Pattiann Rogers – Before I Wake

The turning of the marsh marigold coming slowly
Into its emergent bloom underwater; the turning
Of the coral sands over themselves and over their dunes
And over the scratchings of the scarab beetles
Turning over the dung of the desert doe; the pivoting
Of the eye of the bluefish turning inside the drawing light
Of its multiple school shifting its constellation
In the dark sea; this is the prayer of sleep
In which I lay myself down to dream.

The quiet enclosed by the burrowing wolf spider
Dragging its egg to the surface to sun;
The stillness covered by the barren strawberry
Making its fleshless seed on the rocky hill
The study in the desert mushroom knotting itself
In the arid heat; the silence of the fetal sea horses
Bound in the pouch of their father; this is the dream
Of the soul in which I lay myself down to pray.

And I’ve asked the outward motion of the hollow web
Of the elm making leaf, and I’ve asked the inward motion
Of every glinting fin making the focus of the carp,
And I’ve asked the involution of the egg buds carried
In the dark inside the cowbirds circling overhead,
And I’ve asked the tight coiling and breaking
Of light traveling in the beads of the sawgrass
And the net of the sea oats splitting and binding
And splitting again over and over across the open lands
To keep me in this dream tonight through one prayer more.


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