The CVS on fire on Fox News
and the Fox News truck on fire
on Fox News and the quick
brown fox of the flames
jumping out of the frame are
one. And the night
advancing behind its riot
shield and the big small-town
moon bobble-head bobbing
outside Quicker Cash and
the late-shift Liquor Locker
clerk clocking the CVS
are one with the eternal rock-seated
being, the kingdom of one stone
upon another. I want to believe
there is a mammoth
in the ice of a flipside America
within whose filthy coat no bank
can find us. My kingdom
for a mammoth of heaven
and flame, a many-feathered
shaft-shouldered Fox News truck
invisible to the police. May earth
destroy CVS, may thistle
and sedge and dill and dock
wreck Fox. The yew is a hard tree,
fixed in the earth. The earth
is a hard earth. The grasslands
are wrapped in black wool.
The marshmallow charms and
palm-twigged paternoster
are yours. We’ll follow the two stars
you can see from the city. This is
the five-ton day of the mastodon.
This has happened before. The
earth is hard and rain
is real and flint is cold. The flame
in the rag in the gas in the bottle
in the hand in the air in the future.