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how many bodies xxxxxx Cameron Price
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o damaged body my tree husk resting place walls of bearded lichen dim as green grave markers lost in the stomach of earth how many bodies xxxxxx are there with their names carved on xxxxxx stones asleep in the ground? we are risen into stars at last thick burning light preserved immaculate in cosmic cathedrals cold and filled up tight look here come morning's blinding knives the rudderless ships of our hope draw close on quivering wings and lust the promise of home instead they find xxxxxx planets whose organisms had tried to kill the gods with chemicalsbombs&computers now we weep with them
__ This poem was born out of an exploration of postmodern pastoral poetry. I would define postmodern pastoral poems as capturing the complex overlapping relationships that contribute to the preservation and degradation of the natural world. Necessarily this includes helpful and harmful human tendencies. I wrote "how many bodies xxxxxx" as a response to these ideas. I recommend [The Arcadia Project: North American Postmodern Pastoral] edited by G.C Waldrep and Joshua Corey to anyone interested in exploring poetry along these lines. |