with means that had been reserved for Divine Providence in former times, they
changed the pattern of the rains, accelerated the cycle of the harvests, and
moved the river from where it had always been….
–Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude
at dark I heard a rustling backhoe say,
shalt not boil a kid in its mother’s milk
bury the river under its own water
kilowatt hours and pleasure boats
suck the river dry – unless you wish to;
in that case, leave your credit card
passport with the desk clerk;
your culture and your language
your children and your genome in the till.
Bringhurst, “The Focal Length of Fuel”
friend lives on the Delaware River
fashions Eden out of burned
that were the automats
youth in New York.
–Jack Gilbert, “Ostinato