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On Attempting to Write on a Patagonian Afternoon.

September 16, 2007

Buzzing horseflies Tango dance before I
squash one on this page
watch your back
close your teeth until I
slap my itching ear
sounds like remote control planes
scrape the air
is it lunch yet? My stomach
gurgles while my hand scratches
pencil thick buzzing of flies
and madness of knees, speaking
in tongues of insect bites and DDT
a car comes up the gravel drive-way, filling
the air with pebbles once
stuck in my shoe
tires scrunch as whinnies arise
from the lower field
I surrender to the noisy neighing, but
the biting insects bother me
in their presence my propelling pencil squeezes
useless words sideways onto the page
while the chatting flies
leave messages in a language I
cannot decipher

Copyright © 2007

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