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In a Pact with an Owl
for Jackson Pollock
In a pact with an owl
you wade through
the cramped reflections of a lake
so many nights on short fuse wire
you drive like a gelding
through fog
through headlights
those two canoes
lifted like sleepers
in a dark parade.
When Night Spiked
When night spiked
its wingless river
I became freight
until I reached your statue,
your spurs propped up
on the shore,
among the bolts
and the ruins
and the blonde carnations
and the rams that go to war.
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