Adrian Blevins

Issue #
September 28, 2015

Meditation at the Car Lot

                                                                                  After a line by Ralph Angel
It’s anyone against the wind tonight
& each of us also against & to what avail
a chemical smut in the broccoli
& in the scam nectars raining through our guts
like venom. It’s anyone against MS tonight
& whatever cells fall too low in general excellence

& it’s me in particular in my head tonight
against the tin onslaught of the car lot
that’s really an onslaught I think against
the earthy essence where once did yummy chickens
hatch & dwell & die. Where once was the farm
of Mister McDonald & a sweet northern orchard

where once were apples plus other apples
& one could flutter down one’s old Granny’s
old Granny quilt. And upon it lay a basket.
Hey, say me saying this is kind of like an ax
& that an ax is kind of like a warning sign
someone put on a piece of wood

all those years ago when the daft lumberjacks
began their foul felling until we got
this Nissan & this Honda & this other Nissan
& this other Honda & this GMC truck thing
& this other one & other one & other one
& other one & other one & other one

nothing like but just as grotesque as
the felled & rotted heads of horses
& the felled & rotted heads of cows & goats
& even of two or three boys & girls
who passed by here all those years ago thinking
what a good-looking paddock, what a Monet.

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