In a landscape

The bruised heat of that radiance kept  coming even as I collapsed into a den of wet logs  and started talking to myself about where to stab the belly  of an animal you plan to eat, raw and with what metal lost in  scoffing/wood. Survival was so funny and incantatory as we ate venison under  the carburetor from the movie abrasively tender gasoline bland as a good  dream we wake up biting the ice in the trunk and slapping the imaginary  gnats of prophecy I love the man stuffed in the deer with a pet Nadine    blunt in the half gallop of spring lunches when the light rides them down the crying tongue       because he is ready as a child for the vocabulary of this swelling instant of instinct    and Rodney rising to the surface of the yard pool and leaning there seductively impossible to  rescue was the other sedative the arms begin to circle the body like prayer beads, palms meeting  in the center near the curtain call the comfortable hum of the dial tone at the end of an emergency  is where we enter dense and hollow-green agreement to establish ourselves in a kingdom that doesn’t exist   yet