o pioneer! -- Evie Shockley
"and the lord said unto satan, behold, he is in
thine hand; but save his life." -- job 2:6
he made history sit up stiff like a new recruit waiting wide-eyed
for the next gust from winds of change. did another job
on the devil, in tailored sackcloth, catered ashes. sometimes he hears
the children's voices louden slightly, as if they were coming back.
they are not. he claps his hands when no one's looking, in time
with their dancing footsteps' receding: a memory, a summons
ignored. all up in the sun's face, his melanin bubbles to the surface
like struck oil. he snaps his past around him, a matador's cape, to keep
himself from disappearing, becoming some black hole consumed
with its own success. he is a brewing storm, high but heavy, hanging
like a veil over that yellow daystar until he bursts into spears.
-- for craig griffith, byron taylor, stanley stallworth, 1998