pickup stalled

From the first days of Spring
to the wild land bring
    pansies in a basket
castles in the blue-green
   firmament & others
oddments like fragments
of cold chiseled stones & other
endlings
Cold runs the creeksplash
    under lowslung bridges
        & deer that forage too
in the open mystery woods
along dog bar dog bar dog bar
stone cabins where miners
    shot out iodine bottles
& broke the quiet of mornings
    in March    in March
wherefore whatfore the 3x5
rendezvous in unused settings
    "that's the way she bends"
says Conner in the flood times
of 1933
when no one lived, there

poetry & engineering

     Where does the poet fit into an engineering culture that has nothing but contempt for the actual physical world, that values not things-in-themselves but how they can be telegraphed into other "advantages"?
     Where does a poet fit into an engineering culture that projects time as horizontal in order to devise design & apply its ample abbreviates- a stridency that ironically defeats itself by fostering greater necessity & delivering not the fullness of time but rendering it a "fugitive measure"?

'Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.''

-Sylvia Plath