For Liz Roscher
It’s arrogance that takes land, uneven and sliced through
with meandering creeks between two tidal rivers
and imposes grids, and Opticons, papers over the rest
with a compact with the powerless, spores of smallpox
dormant in the parchment. So take a hike, pal.
Follow the light, sure, but screw over the nutty German farmers at the polls,
and evolve Enlightenment into violent Know-Nothingism:
Use well thy freedom.
We forget these things by constantly memorializing them
on sports-talk radio, a Jew and an Italian
befouling what’s still, on early autumn evenings, Lenni Lenape air.