desecrated places

wendell says there are no unsacred places,

only desecrated ones, but i don’t know

what desecration looks like in the wild.

is it bombed buildings and landmined beaches,

ring-barked trees and fields sown with salt?

is it the graffitied walls of the power substation?

the monument built from blood, sweat and propaganda?

the graveyard of broken dreams?

or is it the electric yellow pawnshop on the corner

where, once upon a time, green wheat turned to gold

in the late summer sun?