I am named in my mother’s trust 
but no one knows how to find her land. 

Bounded to the north by the Southern Pacific Railroad, 
east by the heirs of Dugas, Robichaux,
west by a gravel road.

How much of this do I own? 

Sir Thomas, stark green until he crept acurl
into the bed of marriage, put ripeness on
in the soft white embraces of a girl,

I

He said goodbye for the last time in a cafe in
Saint-Paul-de-Vence, over a glass of Chablis.
She lingered over cheese and fruit before requesting

                        O tree my mother
Your trunk is old.    Green and deep lives your leafy branch
          And each green leaf winks its eye

Relax,
            stand at attention, and.
         Purple snake stands out on

The two of us are young enough to dream
   we’ll make it out alive, somehow escape

The light seems somehow brighter brought to rest,
entangled in the far bank’s canopy—

I put the bacon into the pan.

It lies there, lank and perfectly relaxed.

“We say stone has a memory,’’ Rodney says.

Three cars, and I’ve lived with
twice that many women.