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P.T., 1936
 

IN OCTOBER, an honest young printing executive
from Maine passed through this desert
en route to San Diego.
A year or two shy of the Westons and in
the betweens, I like to think he'd
pause to regard a view there'd never be again,
here linger glance for once at makeready waste,
heat-inversion flats that may just prefigure true sea.

Any reliable firm there can have his complete
business history with photo.
All
the (scant) evidence makes him a poet,
believer in physiognomy, appearances and
the restorative promise of antipodean change —
rain to none, pine to creosote,
ruin to resolve — a geographer whose
turns and shifts inscribe the terrain in
slips of tongue, conjectural wash and
stuttered ink these years anon.
badland, spring; glass, mirage.
At right scale, errors none.
 

11 nov 98
 

agenbyt
asphalt
banning blvd
bloom
conatus
(confession) when
crop
dunes
ever
exploitation
grays
have
lasting
narrow
no felt, contemned
pines
P.T., 1936
recipe
a tear for martha
the leaves
translation 1
 

too. some very important
 

 

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