Page 26 - WDickinson_Blackwell_Submission
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Love Canal
There is a place I want to take you.
It is where the birds go to roost,
and the water is blue as blue can be.
Where we inject love, softly.
A needle under skin, and it
shivers down the river banks.
Where each tree and spring will become
the lacquered pine threshold
and the chlorinated pools I will build for you.
Each tributary is that vein,
from cephalic to carotid to heart.
From black furnace to lung.
Where every day is the music
of our choosing. I will build you
great theaters and microphones.
The fish, they breathe toxins, too.
They and us in vitro. We want to see
how tough love can hurt.
Where you can breathe tomorrow,
the oxygen tank by your side. I will engrave
endearment in the language of binary.
Love’s harvest is bountiful.
The fish practically leap into basket.
We pick their bleached bones from teeth.
There is a place I want to take you.
It is where the birds used to roost,
and the water was as blue as blue could be.
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