Indian Apple leaves a remarkable down
on the prairie, so unlike anything
from the Volga grasslands to
the basalt columns hemming Ireland,
that all similes are rendered null and void.
A buffalo needs two shots
through the lungs to be brought down.
Imagine the surveyor’s staccato cry —
caught in a wave pressed into igneous slab:
the earth’s colicky sobs.
Northwest running meridians
and east–west base lines with corner markers
made to be lost or obliterated if not chiseled deep
into the vernacular rock.about the author