by James Galvin

    Without external reference，

    The world presents itself

    In perfect clarity.

    Wherewithal， arrested moments，

    The throes of demystification，

    Morality as nothing more

    Than humility¹ and honesty， a salty measure.

    Then it was a cold snap，

    Weather turned lethal² so it was easier

    To feel affinity³

    With lodgepole stands， rifted aspens，

    And grim， tenacious⁴ sage⁵.

    History accelerates till it misses the turns.

    Wars are shorter now

    Just to fit into it.

    One day you know you are no longer young

    Because you've stopped loving your own desperation.

    You change life to loneliness in your mind

    And， you know， you need to change it back.

    Statistics show that

    One in every five

    Women

    Is essential to my survival.

    My daughter asks how wide is lightning.

    That depends， but I don't know on what.

    Probably the dimension of inner hugeness，

    As in a speck⁶ of dirt.

    It was an honor to suffer humiliation⁷ and refusal.

    Shame was an honor.

    It was an honor to freeze your ass⁸ horseback

    In the year's first blizzard⁹，

    Looking for strays that never materialized.

    It was an honor to break apart against this，

    An honor to fail at well-being¹⁰

    As the high peaks accepted the first snow -

    A sigh of relief.

    Time stands still

    And we things go whizzing past it，

    Queasy¹¹ and lonely，

    Wearing dogtags with scripture¹² on them.

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