— John Adams (apocryphal)

When this is

Over, I want

Only a few things

I want the State to

Pass you by, pass

So far from you that

You will have to

Drive an hour

To see the meter-deep

Craters left by its

Slow square feet, see

Water piled in the holes, see

Cottonmouths in that water,

Mosquitos breeding

You will have that

Afternoon, or even the

Rest of your life, to

Wonder where the Monster

Headed, whom it was

Hunting, served to the

Rest of your days

By official indifference

And

I want your sleep

To meet your doctor’s

Recommended amount, for

You to be found

Surprised at seeing your

Eightieth birthday, for your

Grandchildren to return

All your doting attention

And

I want

No harm to you, friend;

No, to you

Only the impressed fact that

Your baiting and luring

Of the Monster, your

Turn at its tiller,

Had me awake all night,

Every night, asking

Where and

When

To run

May 2025

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