Aught, no. 13 (2004)
Crag Hill
4 of Spades
The thing that helped me the most, though, was the time I could
the spirit of harsh 
  reality
  guns in circulation, guns in possession, a rash of gunfire
We had to go to 
  Missoula and descend
  like perfect crow retellings. We were stuffed in
  sand, proud of anybody who was a summer lost
Label didn’t 
  muck a bag hinge over it, but I didn’t
  honk, saw the rally that culled him. I sit with him
  and chew and loosen for a whole as he balked a tight
  name. Then I husked him about the teller
He was sitting 
  in the shadow of death. We were
  all sitting in the shadow of death. I wondered what
  he was thinking about. Maybe he was thinking about
  his girl. I even hoped he was thinking about her.
     We heard the chopper. It came in from behind
It’s next. 
  It’s past. It’s over two hundred years ago.
  He didn’t wash the blood from his face, nor rinse
  it from his clothes, as his children witnessed. “Will
  you now, when you are needed most, stop at words?”
  How can she smile at a future she does not know?
  “What the hell you going to do with freedom?”
‘He was 
  generally really
  well liked, so is he a murderer
  or is he a good guy? He’s prob-
  ably all of those things,’
  Tippett said. ‘But I think it’s
  really important to figure out
  what happened in those last days’
It just is deteriorating so much more rapidly than I expected
“You’re the last 
  bard,” Ebbie said phonily, his recitation
  corrupting like a creek imploding from a battle after you seek it
was loose, dangling 
  on his shirt, he yanked it off.
  He looked up at the advertising placards above
  the windows, wanting to turn his thoughts away
           Things 
  tuck motion, flicker or sound, an
  unheroic tradition — it’s all to be to have been.
            In usurpation, advancing 
  by degrees, past and
  future create an equality
Hell, he was 
  on the edge of panic. The ritual had
  been going on for a week now and it would con-
  tinue until the cue was heard no more. In the
  meantime, the class would suddenly erupt into a
  confusion of waving arms and jogging legs
not the infirm affirmation
  a nation on the mat
  knees or shoulder blades
  there’s no turning over a new leaf
  our resounding conundrum
  our aches layer
Try as he might, 
  Villa cannot sustain the contempt he customarily
  shows gringos. He simply envies even the worst of the Hollywood
  nitwits too much: their literacy, their technology, their freedom.
  Before the arrival of Thayer and his crew, in fact, Villa has
  already taken on an American named Sam Drebben as an inter-
  preter and gunner. Drebben (Alan Arkin) is a cynical all-purpose
  rebel, the kind of peripatetic fighter who could find an entrée into 
  the proposed revolution
Past the censor? Past the night hands?
We left the 
  esoteric stuff behind and talk about real
  things like where roads should be built or shouldn’t be built
When it’s 
  over it’s over
  Cloud crossing moon, half-clear sky,
  then candle-sputter, shadow-crawl
The Patriot Act, passed without 
  a blink, is now
  under attack from the left and right, one
  thing both agree upon: individualism is the penultimate
  act of patriotism. My country ends at my front door
‘Human 
  beings have no
  right to tell other human beings
  how long they have to live
  unless they have some kind of
  firearm in their hands,’ he said
majority of 
  that early,
  thick carbon dioxide
  atmosphere has been
  subsequently locked up
  in the carbonate rocks,
  which are everywhere
Until now the 
  leftovers on
  this pivotal battlefield have been
  small — spent cartridges, the
  occasional skull. But as months
  of drought have drained the
  Danube to its lowest level in a
  century, larger relics are coming
Copyright © 2004, by the author. 
  All rights reserved.
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