P R A I R I E D U C H I E N
Profundity?
There is none of that
there. No
it is mythless.
Of all its voices
there is not one
to carry such a burden
to say
'I am the voice of'
Something
that does not move.
It is no matter
if the red-faced
shaggy-shinned god
once walked there
sporting his fabulous cock.
That beautiful
carcass
is of no matter now.
In Prairie
du Chien
listen for the wind
for the sexless cry
riding it ACROSS the plain.
Hard and desolate
will it roar
over generation
of crossties.