Three Po­ems


There’s noth­ing here you want

There are go­phers but no one’s go­ing to pay you a penny a tail even if you catch them, line them up in a box and salt them

There was a cream­ery but the cows were tu­ber­cu­lar There was a store but it burned

There was a rail­way but they tore up the track

There’s noth­ing here but sins of (the Bound­ary) Com­mis­sion There were Sioux pass­ing through with a Gatling gun on their way to Ba­toche

There were lots of Moun­ties

A man killed twenty women and rode in a wagon with my un­cles or their friends or their friends’ friends Dead go­phers are worth as much to your fa­ther as to the gov­ern­ment

Are we from here or there

Sur­vey says

A man can speak a dozen lan­guages and not write his own name

Sur­vey says

The name means bro­ken wheel or white fa­ther or flow­ing river

Sur­vey says

The killer was caught here and hanged in Win­nipeg What makes you think a ghost town has bet­ter ghosts than you

Be­cause the sound of 15,000 garter snakes wak­ing up at Nar­cisse will ex­plain ev­ery­thing

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