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And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon; . . .
My mother died one summer—
the wettest in the records of the state.
Crops rotted in the west. . . .
Elliot Ray Neiderland, home from college
one winter, hauling a load of Herefords
from Hogtown to Guymon with a pint of . . .
At night, alone, the animals came and shone.
The darkness whirled but silent shone the animals:
The lion the man the calf the eagle saying . . .
In that country the animals
have the faces of people:
. . .
Out of me unworthy and unknown
The vibrations of deathless music;
“With malice toward none, with charity for all.” . . .
Once you saw a drove of young pigs
crossing the highway. One of them
pulling his body by the front feet, . . .
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle . . .
We pull off
to a road shack
in Massachusetts . . .