Back to The Issue

from "Back on Earth"

Brent Cunningham

   

Eleven

 

beyond our

earth-

en shield

there is

space

nothing more

& so

I thought

I was

free

even if

it bothered

me, esp-

ecially, having

a lot of

airy things

standing

for real

in particular

the non-

internal

clearly

I was more

so, yes, it's

true—this

isn't

the Illiad

but a

tale of s-

carcity, w-

omen as prizes

& the pro-

per way

to rule—

stay in your

tent, rend

your clothes

& let death

do its work

never trade

a heart

in the under-

world

for a rug

up here

your grief

quiet &

steady

pressed by

unlivable

lives

no time

back on earth

 

 

Twelve

 

o tireless

com-

plainers

great embalmers

of Men

& Classics—

gnarrrrr!

well ok

let's remember

what you

once were

a student

enthused, scr-

ibbling

on the thought

of thought—

right?

real because

of cre-

ation

long before

any oran-

ge, bison-head-

ed creatures

began to eat,

shit, cry

or especially

drink

back on earth

 

 

Fifteen

 

what to do?

address a

future

you ne-

ver saw

coming?

ask some

deep

query?

maybe

not—be-

sides

why would

stick-eaters

actual-

ly need

intellect?

in Thy damp

in Thy steam

a vision

of an elk

its body

eaten

by ticks—

yes, & then

what? 

dreams?

a proje-

ction? thirty

thousand

years

to inn-

ovate

a somewhat

shar-

per spear

back on earth

 

 

Nineteen

 

solidarity

as ex-

communication

a literal

flood

where all

Thy money

dis-

appears

into folders

& drivers

the ones

Thy own

of the people

yes they

make a show

of science

& sha-

re a few

interests

but it's

really a task

like it was

for Xrist:

no one trains

a baby

to be obsequ-

eous

rage, or

settle

back on earth

 

 

Twenty-Four

 

by ec-

onomy I

mean

not dying

what is

really wrong

w/ me, why

is there no

one to walk

me back?

Thy move

as all Rulers

do

beyond my

grasp

like a pilot

on a sinking

craft

well, in

my day

kids were born

had eyes

& in

particular

stomachs

their sun

came up

like a clock

& stories

were told

or inv-

ented

& maybe

that's all—

a way to

keep

'em quiet

back on earth