Earth movers

I open the kitchen pantry
& let the ditchdigger out
for its evening run. It is
painted in pastels, as if to
say it is not just some fell
creature of the forest, has
culture, compassion, feels
for the earth each time it
tears it open to lay fiber

optic cables or waste or
water pipes. It claims it
has sensitivity, has read
poetry, is informed by
the poems of Edna St.
Vincent Millay & Emily
Dickinson. I half-believe
that — the poem bit, but
not the poets. Too often

I have opened the pan-
try door & found the
bucket raised, the crock-
ery & preserves smashed,
the digger turning semi-
circles, back & forth, back
& forth, & shouting at the
walls, ”rage, rage, against
the dying of the light”

Dolmens

The light the moon lays
down on the pavement. Faint
footprint or bleached skull.
Enough to see, not to see
by. Small particles exist as
talismans. Talismen? The
night around, the moon
is part of it. Paving is
basedrop, solid to the
touch. Trees are cutouts,
substance only by impli-
cation. Cannot be touched,
cannot be solid. The moon
a round, the night is apart
from it. Neither seen. Neu-
trinos passing. A footprint
gleaming as it fluoresces
in the skull. Small talis-
man, past article of faith.

The Gift

Supposing it to be
the proper charm
I spell it out. But
maybe my pro-
nunciation or a

shift in meaning
of a keyword
has rendered it in-
operable. So instead
of the largesse I

had hoped
I have only these
small fragments to
bring to you. There is
still a little sense

to them, some
miscellaneous
magic. But, perhaps
if you were to
breathe on them…..

 Mark Young‘s most recent books, all published in March, 2025, are Some Unrecorded Voyages of Vasco da Gama, from Otoliths, Home Hill, Australia,; the downloadable pdf, Closed Environment, from Neo-Mimeo Editions, Nualláin House, Monte Rio, California, U.S.A.; & The Complete Post Person Poems, from Sandy Press, San Diego, California, U.S.A.

You can find more of mark’s work here on Ink Pantry.