my direction is my proposal

All I need coordination, cannot imagine my destination.

This week it is Sharon Olds, WS Merwin, Edna St. Vincent Villay, Gertude Stein again, Susan Howe (regrettably). 

Spilled out in half-rhymes 
Yammering about the broken earth
I couldn't stop, I knew I had to stop
Puncturing the land 
Prescription pills in the form of someone else
Glint of April days
Only the afternoon were ours
I could see the new desert rearing its head
Sons and daughters from some place tough
Bumper-crop in the corona borealis
The forms we felt while in rescue
In utero the greening of homes
Homes that poems once built
Crazy Fanni Tutti
Scrap wood cut into tiles
I think about whirling
In my cave to conjure
A revelation, the fabric
Where a body used to be