how we became human new and selected poems 1975 2001

The singer-songwriter died of natural causes at Sunnybrook Hospital in Toronto on Monday evening, said Victoria Lord, the musician's longtime publicist and a representative for the family. And when you take your next breath as we enter the fifth world there will be no X, no guidebook with words you can carry.TORONTO - Gordon Lightfoot, the legendary folk musician whose silvery refrains told a tale of Canadian identity that was exported to listeners worldwide, has died at 84. They have never left us we abandoned them for science. You will travel through the membrane of death, smell cooking from the encampment where our relatives make a feast of fresh deer meat and corn soup, in the Milky Way. The map can be interpreted through the wall of the intestine -a spiral on the road of knowledge. The place of entry is the sea of your mother’s blood, your father’s small death as he longs to know himself in another. An imperfect map will have to do, little one. Our forgetfulness stalks us, walks the earth behind us, leav- ing a trail of paper diapers, needles, and wasted blood. What I am telling you is real and is printed in a warning on the map. Once we knew everything in this lush promise. We no longer know the names of the birds here, how to speak to them by their personal names. Trees of ashes wave good-bye to good-bye and the map appears to disappear. Monsters are born there of nuclear anger.

Flowers of rage spring up in the depression. Keep track of the errors of our forgetfulness the fog steals our children while we sleep. They best describe the detour from grace. Take note of the proliferation of supermarkets and malls, the altars of money. In the legend are instructions on the language of the land, how it was we forgot to acknowledge the gift, as if we were not in it or of it. It must carry fire to the next tribal town, for renewal of spirit. The map must be of sand and can’t be read by ordinary light. For the soul is a wanderer with many hands and feet. My only tools were the desires of humans as they emerged from the killing fields, from the bedrooms and the kitchens.

For Desiray Kierra Chee In the last days of the fourth world I wished to make a map for those who would climb through the hole in the sky.

How we became human new and selected poems 1975 2001