Allan Peterson

Precautions

Night is organized in such fragile segments

the least wailing injures it

In the problem of identity some distrusted

fingerprints addressing letters to themselves

to conclusively verify that 3 is a promise

that something preceded and something waited

For assurances I take two books when traveling

The birds here and the birds there dividing America

my local damp amphibians and your dry snakes

Wild vowels and consonants split by the Mississippi

Silence like mine is an accidental visitor

I no sooner arrive than the sirens begin

In Spite Of

consanguinity some thought nature not compelling

that they were not of it

Happiness seemed to them dull and unimaginable

Their fiction got stuck on murder and worse

Pulp they called it

We are already well known for loving our liars

The coast is not clear The coast is hope edge on

like Andromeda and full of anxiety

As a rider can transfer fearful to his horse

Heredity may render immunity

yet allow a stiffness in the hip

And even with language’s moving parts

it’s no match for the garden

A reckless pleasure as grass makes Palominos

while we watch