Two Poems
Adam Thorpe, 6 March 2003
The dollardom shore of big Lake Michigan finds him doing what he did as a boy
by real seas, running alongside them: the land’s hem stitched, he’d look
back upon a long beach emptied by twilight (his spoor blurred as if already
old), and turn it to Avalon, or Crusoe’s island. Even on the edge of Central Africa
he had to change into somewhere else what they would always...