The Map

Applying to Heavy Equipment School

I marched farther into the Great Plains

And refused to come out.

I threw up a few scaffolds of disinterest.

Around me in the fields, the hogs grunted

And lay on their sides.

You came with a little water and went away.

The glass is still on the table,

And the paper,

And the burned scaffolds.

You were bent over the sink, washing your stockings.

I came up behind you like the night sky behind the town.

You stood frowning at your knuckles

And did not speak.

At night I lie still, like Bolivia.

My furnaces turn blue.

My forests go dark.

You are a low range of hills, a Paraguay.

Now the clouds cover us both.

It is raining and the movie houses are open.

Copyright Credit: Larry Levis, “The Map” from The Afterlife (Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 1977). Reprinted with the permission of Sheila Brady.

Source: The A (University of Iowa Press, 1977)