The Map

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Applying to Heavy Equipment School 
I marched farther into the Great Plains 
And refused to come out.
I threw up a few scaffolds of disinterest. 
Around me in the fields, the hogs grunted 
And lay on their sides.

You came with a little water and went away. 
The glass is still on the table,
And the paper,
And the burned scaffolds.
You were bent over the sink, washing your stockings.
I came up behind you like the night sky behind the town. 
You stood frowning at your knuckles
And did not speak.
At night I lie still, like Bolivia.
My furnaces turn blue.
My forests go dark.
You are a low range of hills, a Paraguay. 
Now the clouds cover us both.
It is raining and the movie houses are open.

© Larry Levis