Just Lexicons

By | 1 August 2010

~ George Oppen


A zero, a nothing, a barbarity —
Cars on the highway filled with speech,
The darkness of trees.

The extreme from up-state
(Grateful for a breeze):
He who will not work shall not eat.

It is the air of atrocity,
A kind of garden like a flat
Sea. My daughter, my _______,

What can I say? Myth of the blaze, myself I sing:
Now we do most of the killing.
Of such deadly ancestry,

Preceded by mounted police,
Quotations, the resistance,
Survival: Infantry.

Tell the beads of chromosomes
(Like a rosary):
Ultimately, the air

Visits what ends
You are the last,
The Z.

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