Rearticulation of an Aesthetic



 A small republic

overrun in minutes

by seasonal militia.


 Line by line, word detonations—echolocation in versal darkness.


 The poem runs reading aloud over its shoulder, crossing the creek—


Prayer of the profane, prayer of

what returns and returns despite

progress and borders—


 It shores-up an openness in what

 was/is/will be native ground

 and stands with attention–