DRINKING WHISKEY NEAT
or
WHO NEEDS A CLIMATE CHANGE?
A man learns to fall back, ease-off when
the sudden squeak of wire sings that single
discordant note between staple and post,
the prolonged prelude to tangled visions
of cattle leaking, fence posts cracking,
barbed wire screeching, chaos waiting
to take shape before him – or the repairs
wear him down to going slow, going
thoroughly through life, discovering details.
Yes Joan, we were so sure in California –
sure as Jeffers’s Big Sur crags that it would last
despite and beyond the pressure
of our fantasies each time we tweaked
the ‘get-rich-quick’ machine. How many
can we pasture now building cities
on the farm ground? how many laws?
how tight the wire? how much whiskey
will we need to drink without water?