I return to the earth that made me
— Ezra Pound, Canto XXVII
Dust again, dust again! We cannot sweep
away the origins. We cannot sweep away
the central truth of our existence — water
separates us from the soil; water juiced
with lightning. We are liquid lightning
running from water to water, but dusted
with a deadline. We run, we run! Dead
run to the bridge that is the race’s finish
line. Lightning steps and no one wins;
no one loses — it’s a tie on the other side.
* * *
So a couple of poets and I have gotten together and decided to whet our brains against the steel lines of Pound’s Cantos. (Let’s see… that would make our heads stone, wouldn’t it?) Interesting sparks flying.