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on the Upper Keechi, & a walker
of lunar edges seething
over immense white-powder
beds & spiraled heights
successors to civilization
rims cleared beyond horseflesh
concentrated
after the Mason murders
on scalps
forays for hair & sorrow,
weather-swept as if the world's crevices
& channels offered outposts
on the moon . distances in which horses
dropped, obscured in alkali,
riders died sucking on stones
the turbulent savagery
driving to the ground
Mrs Mason dead in the cow lot
child nursing
at her breast
the enduring
savagery
hardened in
Isaac Lynn
to flagrant
advantage
enjoyed at 60
roasting well-salted
scalps off
tapering
forked ends
of dogwood &
a pair of silver bells
in the wraith-like
hair of a
Comanche chief
tinkling
grease
crawling
off the stick.
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