Gerry Loose
WEATHER MOUNTAIN, NOBORIBETSU, HOKKAIDO
for Morven
sediments and breccias
striated and baked
this is north
the cold caldera at once
erupting filling Jigokudani
Hell Valley with its hell
it can only be done by walking
it concerns walking
it’s here we walk away from & to
the same place
what’s true of mountains?
their stone hearts are magma
we plant trees
that mountains can walk again
that mountains can shrug them off & sleep
(they are full of demons when wakened)
what do I know of mountains?
I know I’m walking
we plant trees
that I can walk
big toe divided
that’s the way it’s done here
the mountain breathes through fumitories
on snow & ice
(breath frosting)
where hell’s inventors
boil believers of another hell
where do the bears sleep?
where do the boars walk?
snow is dreaming our footprints
crane dancing
basket headed musicians
inventing only ourselves
what is the yeast of hell?
Weather Mountain
what is being stolen?
Hiyori yama
the language of the body
is weather
the dialect of sulphur is restless here
side booth demons stink of it
Weather Mountain walks its own temple
Weather Mountain its own ringing bell
striated and baked
this is north
the cold caldera at once
erupting filling Jigokudani
Hell Valley with its hell
it can only be done by walking
it concerns walking
it’s here we walk away from & to
the same place
what’s true of mountains?
their stone hearts are magma
we plant trees
that mountains can walk again
that mountains can shrug them off & sleep
(they are full of demons when wakened)
what do I know of mountains?
I know I’m walking
we plant trees
that I can walk
big toe divided
that’s the way it’s done here
the mountain breathes through fumitories
on snow & ice
(breath frosting)
where hell’s inventors
boil believers of another hell
where do the bears sleep?
where do the boars walk?
snow is dreaming our footprints
crane dancing
basket headed musicians
inventing only ourselves
what is the yeast of hell?
Weather Mountain
what is being stolen?
Hiyori yama
the language of the body
is weather
the dialect of sulphur is restless here
side booth demons stink of it
Weather Mountain walks its own temple
Weather Mountain its own ringing bell
Copyright © Gerry Loose 2018
Gerry Loose is a poet whose work is as often found in public places inscribed on stone as well as in galleries and on the page.
His most recent books are fault line; night exposures (both Vagabond Voices), An Oakwoods Almanac (Shearsman) and A Wee Book for Morven (Longhouse, VT); gerryloose.com is his in-need-of-considerable-updating website.
His most recent books are fault line; night exposures (both Vagabond Voices), An Oakwoods Almanac (Shearsman) and A Wee Book for Morven (Longhouse, VT); gerryloose.com is his in-need-of-considerable-updating website.