11 Years of In/Words, Pt. 4

From: Dust in the water by Mark Sokolowski (In/Words, 2009)

The Country South of Belleville

see this as a vein: the king’s highway, red spat route strung, thru Ontario
cars trucks pumpt thru to Windsor, Toronto, Kingston, the highwaymen always
hiding the blood & keeping surfaces grey & smooth (man woman & child, late nite back
to London, rainswept tarmac, truck they never saw coming

from greyed veins
go to the organs, the places fed, by blood & vine, find the homes, the people,
the poets that lived, there on the shoulders of the Great Lake, there a part of Ontario,
Prince’s County, “God’s country” the grape grower calls it, as if there is god
& he can live like a vine, boots planted in limestone, on a hill, lakewind
sweeping rain away from grapefields, blessing the old,
“fruitbaskets of Ontario,:

old canning towns, now backed by Midtown Meats,
the mushroom & cement plants, the Frenchmen & women flooding sandbanks the wave
spilling greenbacked into Picton (all summer Marcel makes lefthand turns into grocery
store lots & stops just waits, “seen it happen twice last week, fuckers, cant wait
till fall,” & death when the snow comes,

& the ebb, no more income for seasonal shops,
& the island, the County, slips locks onto its bridges, cuts traffic from Deseronto,
Trenton, Belleville, pass the same, money from hand to hand, everything changing
outside, within, Al Purdy’s house up for sale, cattle herded to barns to drink,
the trough water sheltered, the wind quieted by walls.