Afro-Prairie

Tempting for the voice to locate its noise, to speak of or from. Everybody
wants to be the singer but here’s the continent.

Fielding the question, Do you like good music?

Open love. In a recurring dream about the prairie, a thin hedge–along
some railroad embankment—in which there’s a gap to step through again
and again, for me to step through, out onto the view itself. Not the literary
ballad, articulated, but onto the continent.