Who i stand with today

The True Country

Quail move into brush, ghosted with wings,
sloughing grey light faster than they can absorb.
It is Election Day in America and the islands
are cut into silhouettes on a coarse and worried
ledge of ashen sea. Clumps of levitated water
move in the sky lazing through a swath of
ferrous aqua. Fritillaries sun themselves black
and orange on violet blooms of something
I have no name for so I call it astracantha.

I love this licensure, after a night of rain when
every possible thing beads swollen at the end
of this common pen. I might career it straight
to Africa, skirt the hem of Sahara’s white apron,
or crash it solemnly into Mariana’s kissless trench.
I vote for this today. This. Not for someone or a
group of someones, but for this. This cannot fit
into a polling booth nor should it be made to.



Wind from sea, sun from sky, blooms flocked
with November bees engaged in purest industry.
These are my brothers. These are who I stand
with today: invisible quarry bevied in thickets;
indomitable rock jutting up from wept water;
victorious vapor untethered and resplendent
in the vast acreage of the one true country.

Joseph Gallo
November 4, 2008