Lanthanum 3.12


The dark red lines of the flag (undulating
at 44o from a windy, sky-blue porch)
are a symbol, more or less. Perch
of Bluejay, stealing blueberries (monarchic

regal-eagle thing). I am coming like a thief.
The Founders burrowed liberally themselves
into 1689 : writs of Englishmen &
Elves (under the sod, forgotten) – Chief

Template of the native realm (our worthy
Head-rest). Heroes, inaugurate Verbs
(mumbling) – all the way back, warbling
in the dark. Scared (sideways from history).

And the history of your well-worn icons
is just as foreign to my own
as is the distance between a brune
hypotenuse and its algebraic approximation

(blurred by summer rains). The Boy Scouts
decided to take on the whole weight of the war
in squadrons knit by broody whore-
logistics. Uncle Wilhelm was nervous

in his undershorts. So we went over there
to fight the bloody Crusades (Mother
said OK). Kilroy was here
and all that (us part of nature,

corroded). & brought back trophies
(death's heads, iron iron). Back,
Johnny, to jealous switchbacks
of the share-plow (stars, all fifty).