you're in a hurry to get there
wiggle onto the tough
leather saddle
of the old man's Gazelle
lioness, hunch
pounce and tear off
the gear shift (oh shit)
uncordoned aim
less human expansion
the sea kept them back
until they got crafty
rode around polders
taunted the fish
or built windmills
on fish hills
sea mills
turbines with geometric scales
cobblestone twists
farmlands/villages
Heather on hillside keeps
healthy distance
enough centuries to mature
into the illusion
of bald contentment
the woods
keep Table Mountain out
of the sun its
Northern Ontario mosquitos
bewitched into fairy white bulls
by residential schools
stop for an ice cream
stop for a six-pack
stop for a sign
