perspective

these days like black & white
pictures and all of these
pictures blurred and inarticulate


creaking staircases
and cracked windows


dirty light


find the field where the body was
buried, the one where the indians were
massacred, and lay down
your flowers


all of history is detailed
in the slow collapse of barns


all dreams in the wilderness
are dreams of decay


this girl on the carpet, carpet
soaked with blood, mother on the
far side of the room
candles on the sidewalk,
meaningless but pretty


a small atrocity, yes
but still too much


still so goddamned huge