Dedicated to Stephen Meadows

by Mark Bristow

language isn’t a stone, i said
my brother was a dragon

language is a woven thing, i said
i yield to you, mother, the dragon in me

i wove a bleary fabric when i lived

when the dragon rose bloomed
my mother’s garden shone

i moved through a thousand cups
till the stone was in my hand

25 november 1969

Table of Contents

Dolphin
Pacheco Pass
More Talk From The Easy Life
In An American City
Judy’s Key
At The Santa Cruz Pier
Worthiness
The Golden Chain
Sequoia Lake
The Earth Couples With The Dragon
Nora Nelson
The Emperor Wen Numbers His Concubines
On The Proof Of Prehistoric Footprints In Chicago
The Jaw-Breakers And Prizes Poem
During An Electron Storm The Poet Larry Lawrence Drops The Six-Ball Into Two Pockets At Once, & Sez:
The irresistable Waltz
The Slab Confusion
Once Of A Sunny Sunday Morning Penniless
Re: Merlin-Type Disruptive Element
Homage To Jefferson
Susan’s Poem
Denver Laserium
Mushroom Poem
Dry Wound
For Wilfred Owen
Who Is This Crazyman And Why Do I Want To Be His Wife?
For My Mother On Her Birthday
For My Father, Dec. 18, 1973
To God
To Death
To Pencil
Oso’s Poem
For Kessler And Hoody-Jay As If They Were One Person
Sufi Sam Sez
Song
For Jane
Moon People
Badger State
Refrain From Excessive Speech
Give Me A Goat And I’m OK
For Abermelus In The Story
Analysis Of Silver
Song For Noel