Poem After/For Johannes Göransson (with edits):
With deer there are derisions.
Every time it rains hard enough the ferns bleed.
Every time it’s hard deer jump across ravines.
Blood warmth wilts the ferns.
Scarlet floods from wildlife crisp the tendrils.
Out of the body the crisping blood begets legs sans saddle.
A shivering human manages a mount.
Tongue to hallucinated hornrut a deer-filled gut hears yarrow sprout.
Ok now for some prose-notes: my Baraka on violence bit is bad--no quotation, no elaboration; and probably if I go looking for the line(s) which led me to making that statement they'll not even be there; oh well I suppose blogs aren't usually scholarship and hence I suppose I'm in no violation of what's blogwise legit but wow my blog blows! I envy many other bloggers their grace/panache/elan/I wish an eland would start blogging!