I know a place where barb-wire
wreathes the heaped bones of horse.
I know where we can shoulder our bright
rifles and bag a twine string
of rabbits. It's out past the alkali basin,
right in the dark yawn of that sod-roof shack.
——It'll Get You Every Time
See how gravel breathes the river?
How water slows and pools, now begins
to stink? I pull mussels from their nests of mud,