an experiment in permaculture poetics

 

 


Fifteen: A Literary Inventory of Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument

 

 

 

maybe it's the way warmth rises

 

              in such a celebration of sky

 

like a ghost or rising smoke

 

              even wilder in our imagination than the actual

 

 

 

while silently

 

              inside the cool spheres of our shadows

 

lines like the slithering silver edge

 

              fastening the desert

 

 

 

we return before sunrise

 

              while you dream

 

into the vast blue sky above

 

              hawk? owl? no.

 

 

 

we will be transformed

 

              untethered by photo albums and passports

 

a shared animal

 

              carrying the history and map of these mountains

 

 

 

echoes whistle through

 

              the drought-ridden tempo

 

of western lands

 

              these basins and ranges are not empty space

 

 

 

do you know the sweat you get after crying all day?

 

              this is bad but it is not yet the apocalypse

 

we can all be Narcissus getting lost in ourselves

 

              all this ruckus, only

 

 

 

the nights are cold, the days are hot, and the time between them hums

 

              we raise our faces up

 

into sundry directions

 

              first light engulfs

 

 

 

the arc of distant mountains

 

              weaving in and out

 

as if this were some ancient

 

              cry—harsh and joyous, raucous and wild

 

 

 

that old reptilian brain

 

              singing when it rains

 

por aquí y por allá

 

              I hear you calling

 

 

 

how I miss you

 

              I still remain

 

I breathe in

 

              the image I have of you nestled quietly

 

 

 

but for your leaves

 

              all I saw or heard was the wind

 

scrambling over rocks and roots

 

              against one another to carry

 

 

 

perhaps this is where my love of

 

              the earth-bound

 

the sand, the sky, the

 

              agency of rain, the quick flash

 

 

 

into earth as if

 

              there was no one to hear

 

the mountain will not ask

 

 

 

"use it or lose it," as the Mayordomo says

 

              I also have a mask

 

reforming the map of your home

 

              I carry poetry with me and I feed it to the landscape

 

         

 

~~~~~

Spiral Orb is an experiment in juxtaposition, interrelationships, and intertextuality—a cross-pollination. This opening poem composts fragments from each of the pieces in Spiral Orb Fifteen. Standing also as the table of contents, each line is embedded with a hyperlink to its original poem. Once at each poem, you will find links to the other poems in Spiral Orb Fifteen.

Spiral Orb Fifteen is a special issue on the Literary Inventory of Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument.

For past issues of Spiral Orb: archives

For more on Spiral Orb, see What Is.