Bluffton University

By Dom Fonce

STANDING OVER THE GREAT SERPENT MOUND, 2017

               
         I breathe deep, and in the

                                    distance, hear the chug-pop

                        of a John Deere,

                                    tall and green like corn stalks,

            and the walks

                        of bumpkin lovers through the fields,

                                    hand-in-hand,

                                                                        lip-on-lip,

                                                                                                            thigh-to-thigh.

            They say, “I never want to leave this moment”—

                                                Twisting and rolling in dirt, fused

                                                                        in roots, twined in grass.

                                                            I smell the oil on the mechanic’s cheek,

crackle-rising smoke in the coal-lit factories—

                                                            taste brow-sweat the artist leaks down her

                        face, and feel her lonesome stomach burble, as eyes

                                                                        focus on work and only that.

The air is communal,

                                    transcendent; time

                                                                        is torn and space is singular—each of one

                                                                                                                        body,

                                                everybody carving a great serpent—

            curving through unknowns,

                                                            absorbing mysteries by mouthfuls—

                                                 in their own eyes, on their own land, soft like blocked lard.