Sandra Simonds

"Dear Montana,"

           for Zach Barocas

There is no g(ah-hum)d—
of that, I can be sure
And in going to Istanbul, well, that’s when we notice the leaning tower of Pisa, and it brings
us back to 9th grade mathematics; we notice
the soft glands on the red fish.

[Example:         electron      selectron
                        photon      photino
                        gluon        gluino
                        graviton    gravition]

Youth’s hopeful in its animal is.

but whatever gravitation blurred your woods—whatever weak pull
took such that it was impossible to stay alive.

The wilderness shook a bit
around the wrist, sucked in the trees as if

that green was born black as an embryo.

Splotch on the map.
New York. Los Angeles. Caracas. Baracas.

Timber goes creek and we,
we walked in a figure eight.