THE PLOT LINE BOMBER OF INNISFREE
by
Joshua Massey
B.A., McGill University, 2002
Certificate in Magazine Publishing, Capilano University, 2009

THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF
THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF
MASTER OF ARTS
IN
ENGLISH

UNIVERSITY OF NORTHERN BRITISH COLUMBIA
August 2012
© Josh Massey, 2012

1+1

Library and Archives
Canada

Bibliotheque et
Archives Canada

Published Heritage
Branch

Direction du
Patrimoine de I'edition

395 Wellington Street
Ottawa ON K1A0N4
Canada

395, rue Wellington
Ottawa ON K1A 0N4
Canada
Your file Votre reference
ISBN:

978-0-494-94134-8

Our file Notre reference
ISBN:

978-0-494-94134-8

NOTICE:

AVIS:

The author has granted a non­
exclusive license allowing Library and
Archives Canada to reproduce,
publish, archive, preserve, conserve,
communicate to the public by
telecommunication or on the Internet,
loan, distrbute and sell theses
worldwide, for commercial or non­
commercial purposes, in microform,
paper, electronic and/or any other
formats.

L'auteur a accorde une licence non exclusive
permettant a la Bibliotheque et Archives
Canada de reproduire, publier, archiver,
sauvegarder, conserver, transmettre au public
par telecommunication ou par I'lnternet, preter,
distribuer et vendre des theses partout dans le
monde, a des fins commerciales ou autres, sur
support microforme, papier, electronique et/ou
autres formats.

The author retains copyright
ownership and moral rights in this
thesis. Neither the thesis nor
substantial extracts from it may be
printed or otherwise reproduced
without the author's permission.

L'auteur conserve la propriete du droit d'auteur
et des droits moraux qui protege cette these. Ni
la these ni des extraits substantiels de celle-ci
ne doivent etre imprimes ou autrement
reproduits sans son autorisation.

In compliance with the Canadian
Privacy Act some supporting forms
may have been removed from this
thesis.

Conform em ent a la loi canadienne sur la
protection de la vie privee, quelques
formulaires secondaires ont ete enleves de
cette these.

W hile these forms may be included
in the document page count, their
removal does not represent any loss
of content from the thesis.

Bien que ces formulaires aient inclus dans
la pagination, il n'y aura aucun contenu
manquant.

Canada

ABSTRACT

A theoretical introduction situates this poetical novella within the Prince George creative
writing tradition using a topographical technique termed biblioecological mapping. Through
an historical approach, this introduction also places the thesis within the context of scientific
exploration, positioning the role of the poet as surveyor who maps artistic manifestations of
landscape and seeks transformed relationships to the nonhuman domain. The creative
component maps a hypothetical British Columbia and Alberta of the near future through
allusive narrative, fictional journalism, and poetry. In this speculative geopolitical area called
Enderbee, farmers engage in resistance against a proposed pipeline—what constitutes the
defamiliarization of the current debate surrounding the Northern Gateway Project. On the
biblioecological map, the creative component inhabits a zone where differing textual orien­
tations come together, and the motif of explosion acts as a metaphor for upheaval in arts and
society.

ii

TABLE OF CONTENTS
Abstract

ii

Table of Contents

iii

List of Figures

iv

Acknowledgments

v

Theoretical Introduction

1-22

Creative Component

23-99

Bibliography

100-103

iii

LIST OF FIGURES
Biblioecological Map of Prince George

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank my committee: Professors Rob Budde, Jacqueline Holler, and Kevin
Hutchings for their insight into different aspects of this thesis. Having such accomplished
writers and theorists overseeing my project lent to this creative endeavor an air of im­
portance, and encouraged me to dig deeper conceptually than I might have otherwise.

P e r s o n a liz e d R e m a p p in g s o f th e N o r th iv e s t: A r tis tic E x p lo r a tio n a n d
B ib lio e c o lo g ic a l C a r to g r a p h y
My experimental novella, The Plot Line Bomber o f Innisfree, tells the story of
an elk farmer named Jeffery Inkster who finds his farm threatened by pipeline
expansion, and is dragged into the thick of a plot to wield industrial sabotage against
the intruders. For this introduction to my creative thesis, I will discuss several
theoretical orientations that both guided and emerged from the writing process,
including notions of what I call ‘biblioecological mapping’, and how this theory can
be used to describe the formal hybridity of my creative thesis.
The elk ranch operated by Inkster is called Innisfree, and this is the first in a
series of literary allusions interspersed throughout my text that provide a discursive
framework of diachronic referencing. Through allusive engagement with the history
of English literature, I hope to provide a sense of continuity with the European
tradition; at the same time, I attem pted to integrate these signifiers within the
localized cultural milieu of Northern British Columbia and Alberta. Innisfree is, of
course, the titular subject of the lyric poem “The Lake Isle of Innisfree” by William
Butler Yeats, that presents the wistful musings of an urbanite who daydream s of
retreating to an inland lake in Ireland where he will plant “bean rows” and start a
small apiary (lines 4-5). In my futuristic portrayal of a hyper-industrialized
Alberta/British Columbia border zone of the 2030s, the humble back-to-the land
dream connoted by the name Innisfree is overwhelmed by industrial development
and the encroachment of urban values. Internal moral contradictions, such as the
ecologically questionable practice of farming wild game, also complicate the

1

picturesque ideal, entangling the characters in states of complicity and cognitive
dissonance. My story is thus a reformulation of the common guiding myth of
ecopoetic praxis, that “Rousseauesque story about imagining a state of nature prior
to the fall into property, into the city” (Bate 266). In The Plot Line Bom ber o f
Innisfree, I resituate this atavistic desire for communion with the nonhum an world
into a futuristic setting where the problems caused by hum an dom ination over the
land m irror yet surpass those of today. Approaching the industrial dilemma
poetically puts me in the position to harness w hat Heidegger argued was the unique
power of the poet “to realize, by means of an aesthetic transcendence of technological
wisdom, the promise of authentic relations to being” (Soper 49). Ecocritic Jonathan
Bate also highlights the nature-rootedness that Heidegger designates to the poetic
mode, the German philosopher’s assertion that “there was a special kind of writing,
called poetry, which has the peculiar power to speak earth” (Bate 251). By employing
poetic prose and prose poetry to structure my novella, I am thus in the position to
critique anthropocentric convention as I search for a renewed, personalized
connection with the nonhum an world.
The resemblance that my story bears to the historical events that took place in
the Peace Country of British Columbia between 1996-2009 (Flanagan 3)—including
the widely reported industrial sabotage and resulting jail sentence of Wiebo Ludwig
and other (still unidentified) bom bers—constitutes the realistic grounding for my
speculative tale set in the future. These real-life bombings caused no direct physical
harm to oil and gas workers, and natural resource development has continued largely
unabated in northeastern BC. Tom Flanagan, in a 2009 report for the Canadian
Defense & Foreign Affairs Institute, writes that “overall, th e most likely scenario is a
continuation of isolated and uncoordinated obstructive activities, both violent and
2

non-violent, which may occasionally slow down or hold up particular projects, but
which will probably not threaten the ability of resource industries to continue their
operations in the region” (11). My creative thesis is set in a near future where this
statement is no longer accurate, as the arm am ent available to extreme activists is
much more potent. The growing presence of landowner rage directed towards
developers, and from oil and gas workers back at landowners and environm entalists,
has reached a state of crisis. Posited as a major shaper of historical development by
political philosophers such as Francis Fukuyama and Peter Sloterdijk, rage is “the
mom entum of a movement into the future, which one can understand as the raw
material for historical change” (Sloterdijk 60). By creating a futuristic myth draw n
from recognizable sources, I hope to contribute to a m aster narrative rooted in real
lives, one that negotiates these vectors of rage, to effect a realignment of systems of
environmental stewardship and industrial development towards the ideal of
sustainability.
Though the central action of my story is loosely based on recent bombings in
northeastern BC, I employ temporal dislocation and metafictional tropes to
imaginatively resituate this contemporary debacle in a fresh context—a variation on
what the twentieth-century theorist Viktor Shklovsky called “estrangem ent” (also
translated from the Russian as "defamiliarization" or "enstrangement"). In my
opinion, the ongoing reportage and at times redundant public debate has num bed
Canadians to the real dangers associated with industrial development and the rage
fomented by the resultant conflict over land management. By employing absurdist
literary strategies such as name changing and comical journalism, I engage in w hat
Shklovsky qualifies as a type of artistic writing th at defamiliarizes its subject, and in
so doing wields the power “to remove the autom atism of perception ... [and] create
3

the vision which results from that deautomatized perception. A work is created
‘artistically’ so that its perception is impeded and the greatest possible effect is
produced through the slowness of the perception” (Shklovsky, “Art as Technique”
19). That creative, poetic thought—through the uncommon language and cadence
that form its outward manifestation—can decelerate a reader’s assim ilation of a text
and incite the reconsideration of the familiar, also appears in Shelley’s A Defense o f
Poetry: “It makes us the inhabitants of a world to which the familiar world is a chaos.
It reproduces the common universe of which we are portions and percipients, and it
purges from our inward sight the film of familiarity which obscures from us the
wonder of our being” (13).
Postmodernist critics such as Marjorie Perloff seem to associate the notion of
“making strange” with an outmoded m odernist (or pre-poststructuralist) naivete
(Perloff 11)—assuming as it does some sort of stable social context or exterior nest
from which the text arises and against which details might appear enstranged.
Considering this view in light of the climate-change era, it does seem that
defamilarization is, paradoxically, something twenty-first century society has come to
expect from the environment itself, let alone from artists attem pting to destabilize
our perception of this environment. For me, however, choosing a m ethod conducive
to the problematization of political discourse through artistic divagation was a
creative necessity relevant to my immediate circumstances. The spectre of industrial
sabotage is so tangibly present in British Columbia that for me to write in the realist
mode would be tantam ount to an act of straightforward journalism (a genre th at I
parody in The Plot Line Bomber o f Innisfree), and since there are constantly new
developments in the case, for example, of the Dawson Creek bombings, my story
would have risked becoming irrelevant as new developments came to light. It is my
4

aim to encourage readers to assess issues they are inundated with on a regular basis
from a distorted perspective—to consider the news, even though it presents itself as
perpetually novel, as a static representation in need of “deautomatization.”

B ib lio eco lo g ica l M apping a s D efa m ilia rized C artograp hy
In a letter to his sister Anna dating from 1877, George Mercer Dawson, who
worked as a surveyor for the Geological Survey of Canada and The British North
American Boundary Commission, describes his trip by stage coach through N orthern
California on his way to BC: the roads were “execrable,” he writes; "... I heard the
brake shrieking against the wheels as we went bumping along, and saw the horses
apparently dancing on the edge of an abyss.” After looking out the window for days,
Dawson remarks that “one begins to get sleepy too about the third day. You are
admiring the scenery—paying the greatest possible attention to it—when all at once
you relapse into a state of tem porary insanity with the m ost absurd dream s rushing
through your head” (Dawson, N o Ordinary M an 131).
The “rush” of images described by this unlikely explorer—who was left with a
hunchback frame and the stature of a ten year-old from a childhood battle with Pott’s
disease (Cole and Lockner 4)—is exactly the kind of landscape reverie th at I
experienced at times during the long rides and wearying ten-day shifts involved in
the forestry and ecology work I did for a living before enrolling at the University of
Northern British Columbia. The absurd dream s that assail a surveyor who is driven
squirrely by travel (“squirrely” in the sense of “crazy” or “nervy”) are exactly what
inspired me to write a futuristic myth set in the 2030s. Whereas an explorer like
George Dawson had an empirical contract with the sciences-his surveys for coal and
other mineral resources in northern BC, Alberta, and the Yukon—for which these
5

flights of fancy seem, at least in the above quotation, to have been an annoying
impediment, the creative writer in fact depends on these kinds of disruptions as an
essential part of the creative process. I have no gold claim to boast, nor reports on
copper veins for the commission; instead of filling in topographical maps of forestry
cut blocks and owl survey transects, I now transfer some of those sam e mapping
techniques to create conceptual models of literature-as-ecosystem in order to provide
a theoretical framework for my own creative project here at UNBC, as well as a
defamiliarized conception of literary communities in general. As Edward O. Wilson
postulates in his study of hum anity’s affinity for other life forms, Biophilia, culture
can be conceived of as “an image-making machine that recreates the outside world
through symbols arranged into m aps and stories” (101), and art may be seen as “a
device for exploration and discovery” (77).
Inspiration for this creative thesis emerged from my experiences doing
silviculture and other ecology-related work in the Peace Country, alongside some of
the same rivers George Dawson paddled over a century earlier on his journeys to
map the province’s natural and cultural endowments. So I can relate to the passion
for remote landscapes and culture that compelled him to keep voluminous journals,
water colour sketches, and photos; and to compose rhyming poetiy over the course of
his journeys. One gets the sense, when considering the work of an explorer like
George Dawson, that his motives went further than economic utilitarianism. In fact,
in an article Dawson published in O ttawa N aturalist (Vol 4,1890), titled “On Some
of the Larger Unexplored Regions of Canada”, he muses on the im portance of
conducting science for science’s sake: “Should he be obliged to report th at some
particular district possess no economic value whatever, besides th at o f serving as
receiver of rain and a reservoir to feed certain river-systems, his notes should contain
6

scientific observations ... which may alone be sufficient to justify the expenditure
incurred” (Dawson, No ordinary m an 194). The purist motivation exemplified here
recalls the artistic dictum of “art for a rt’s sake”; however, scientists take their
inspiration outward, whereas m ost artists go inwards into realms of imagination
(Wilson 76).
The series of experiences and realizations outlined above lead me to develop
the art of biblioecological mapping. “Biblioecology” is a relatively easy neologism
that I do not claim to have invented—this term appears sporadically, usually in the
context of archival discourse (for example, in a 1983 paper by Lawrence J. McCrank
called "Conservation and Collection M anagement in Libraiy Science"). I have
discovered no reference to “biblioecological mapping” per se, which I see as my own
contribution to the analogical mode of thinking promulgated by writers like William
Rueckert and Gaiy Snyder. Rueckert was one of the first theoreticians to
acknowledge the analogic compatibility between literature and ecosystem. He
conceives of poems as green plants, entities th at “arrest energy on its path to
entropy” (Rueckert 111) and sees “literary critics as creative mediators between
literature and the biosphere” (121). This conception of literary creations as
constituting an abstract landscape recalls Charles Olson’s opening statem ent in his
1947 study of Moby Dick, Call M e Ishmael: “I take space to be the central fact to m an
bom in America, from Folsom cave to now. I spell it large because it comes large
here” (Olson 11). While Olson and Rueckert certainly chart different ground, they
share the same inclination towards creating conceptual diagrams and analogic
systems that reifies literary data into spatial configurations. This sense of a
superabundance of geographical space teeming with nonhuman phenom ena, and the
effect of voluminous otherness on the poetic imagination, is equally applicable to the
7

geography of Canada and the people here whose self-conception is in large part
shaped by the vastness of the continent. Ecologically informed works such as M oby
Dick don’t take abundance for granted though—they serve as statem ents to motivate
readers toward preservationist activity and attitudes by presenting em pathetic
engagements with the nonhuman domain.
Thinking of literature as an ecological system requires an epistemological
leap; to accomplish this I use the term s “source dom ain” and “target dom ain”, which
I have excavated from George LakofPs writing on metaphor. Lakoff uses these term s
to replace the vehicle and tenor schema that typically informs discussions of
metaphor. This has the effect of widening the scope of definition to include a
mapping between entire conceptual fields (Lakoff 205). Literature is the target
domain in my own project—a topography of concepts which I evaluate using
information from the source domain, which is forest ecology.
Within the “Target-Domain-As-Source-Domain” (as Lakoff calls group
metaphors), we can speak of larger polygons, shapes on the biblioecological m ap that
resemble various forest stands, both uniform and mixed, that are contiguous or
overlapping each other. A historical literary text, when mapped using information
from the source domain, becomes a stand of old growth trees. Transduced within this
theoretical stand are both indigenous stories passed down through oral and gestural
symbol systems, as well as written texts that are the origins of settlers’ literature.

g

Figure 1

BIBLIOECOLOGICAL MAP

Gender

*This is designed to resemble a basic field map used for silviculture surveys. It delineates a conceptual,
not physical space, however. Temporally, this map depicts a current conception o f Prince George
literary culture from 2010 to the present. The X and Y axis represents the intersection o f th e Nechako
and Fraser rivers as theoretical markers of place.

This historical block is positioned beside a contemporary lyric and experimental
stand (much like the stratifications of aspen and cottonwood in a broadleaf forest).
The crossover between these bibliostands is where ecotonal works grow in a state of
transitional tension. The motivation behind this aspect of the map is to address the
habit that writers have to box, or label, each other, used as a means to dismiss certain
kinds of work. This map, then, may not be of use to someone deeply im m ersed in the
complexities of theory; however taken as a pedagogical tool, or an expedient way to
visualize the interrelatedness of formal categories, I hope that it may see some useful
application.
Ecotones appear on the edges of dom inant ecosystems, and thus contain flora
and fauna that are characteristic of several stand types, all merging together. The
ecotone is a landscape feature defined as “a transition area where spatial changes in
vegetation structure or ecosystem process rates are more rapid th an in the adjoining
plant communities” (Levin 780). Also of importance is the fact th at various forms of
ecotone provide conduits for nutrients, bacteria, and disease transfer through
riparian zones of influence: “Fluxes of energy and m aterials across ecotones can be
increased by vectors that move materials or energy in the system. Vectors such as
wind and moving water can increase the permeability of an ecotone by actively
transporting materials across it, altering the distribution of materials” (Johnston
424). In a literary community, conduits of movement and influence are likewise
pivotal, and take the form of literary journals, small presses and their distributors,
internet forums, and cross-institutional relationships. The absence or infection of
any of these conduits can delimit the productivity of the biblioecosystem.

10

Cultural stands—be they gender related, race related, or class related—form
analogs, within the target domain of the biblioecological map, of different
stratifications of soil type, which can be understood as creative conditions or cultural
determinants of a certain literary community. Within these bibliostands, there can
exist “canopy dom inants,” a climax stage species casting large, sometime debilitating
shade because of constricting “crown closure” (Drengson and Taylor 38), yet whose
pervasive root systems provide im portant sub-textual connections. Ageism and
locational bias in the literary world are examples of two of many possible canopy
dominants within the target domain. The analogical extension of a wildfire could be a
manifesto, a bold statement of poetic intent, which creates a large disturbance in
established dom inant literary stands, and replenishes the conditions for growth.
To conceive of literary texts as plants, and the entire domain of literature as
ecosystem, raises important questions about the form and vigour of literary works
and the interconnected communities they form. What position does conservation
then play, and how can we define stewardship in the context of the literary
ecosystem? One begins to see a give-and-take relationship between the source and
target domains when we set out to answer these questions, in which literature learns
about conservation from the natural sciences, while the sciences learn som ething of
imaginative artistry. In the same way that foresters’ maps of a certain region will
enable them to develop a land-management plan, so too can a biblioecological m ap
be used prescriptively, or for pragmatic purposes, to maintain a healthy writing
c o m m u n ity . One can assess the Prince George literary community, for instance, by

mapping the num ber of books published in various genres, the availability of local
publishing, and writerly satisfaction as measured by retention of writers in the area.
The conditions for a healthy ecosystem—for example th at “the structure of the forest
11

is based on material and energetic exchanges” (Drengson and Taylor 4 8 )—holds true
for the literary community as well. The productivity of a particular biblioecosystem is
loosely quantifiable, and the writers, who are the creative species of a particular
system, “are limited in varying degrees by the productivity of the system ” (48).
Figure 1 presents a biblioecological map of the Prince George poetry
community along the conceptual axis of the Nechako and Fraser rivers. While I
delineate a healthy intermingling of several bibliostands in this m ap, I also indicate a
monoculture tendency in the bifurcation of gender blocks, as well a small, fragile
historical region in which endangered texts seek a dwindling refuge. Again, I stress
here the metaphoric nature of this conception, and m ust emphasize that my goal is to
map the literary community as forest, not the other way around. I hope stating this
underscores the fact that I am strongly opposed to any insinuation th at hegemony is
‘natural’ or ‘ordained’ according to the tenets of social Darwinism; and that this is,
above all, a metaphorical construct.
The division of the local writing community along gender lines represents the
recent antagonisms in the Prince George literary community. Two noteworthy events
that have influenced this state of affairs include what is routinely criticized for being
an overly male-dominated or macho reading series called Post-North (2007—) and
the female-oriented anthology, Unfurled (2010); as well as the wom en’s literary
reading, Twisted Words (2011).
The 2011 Post-North poster depicts an adolescent female subject wearing
scant attire who is holding a rifle in a militaristic posture, reproduced three tim es
side by side—-both an aggressive and sexual image. The ensuing debate surrounding
its appropriateness escalated and expanded into something wholly other, to the point
where writers who don’t even live in Prince George, such as Brian Fawcett, began
12

weighing in on a “Poetry War.” On one side of the divide, several male w riters
claimed they felt they were being unjustly criticized for their expression of male
desire. At Sw eetw atergos arts festival in Rolla, several Prince George writers
unveiled a reactionary plan to form a writing club called “The Stallions.”
Before this gender-related conflict reached its apogee in the first half of 2012,
the all-female poetry anthology Unfurled was published to account for the supposed
paucity of female representation in the literary events of the community, and to
reverse the perception of N orthern BC as being “male territory” (Keahey 13). “W hat
the fuck happened, to land a girl like me here?” Gillian Wigmore writes in “Debbie:
Two Things,” a poem that highlights a sense of displacement and disconnection from
the community.
These cultural events and publications th at made statements about gender
had the effect of politicizing the literary community and creating a stark division.
They caused writers to assess their position within the larger debate. The claims of
organizers and publishers-of censorship on one hand, and male favoritism on the
other—are contentious, and the substance upon which they were initially founded
became secondary to the reactive discourse proliferating after the fact. In this paper,
and for the purpose of my mapping, I highlight the effect of these assertions on how
writers relate to the broader social stratifications of the literary community. In the
current climate, it is difficult for Prince George writers to avoid a deep consideration
of their views on gender as it relates to their own lives and creative work. I know
more than one writer who is annoyed that they are compelled to wear their labels so
prominently.
In forest ecology, the trium ph of any single dom inant writing would be
analogous to an unhealthy monoculture, as opposed to a sustainable system in which
13

diversity and continuity are prioritized (Drengson and Taylor 133). In this case, the
distance of gender stands creates fragmented monocultures. The area called
“passage” is a riparian zone (which are biotic systems alongside creeks or rivers)
mapped onto the target domain, where transference and interconnectivity occurs
between the gender stands—a conduit through which cultural memes cross and seed
in oppositional areas, and where transgender identity has a perm anent place.
The diminutive, sidelined historical block indicates another challenge to the
health of the Prince George biblioecosystem. The physical distance th at separates
Northern British Columbia from Europe has translated into an epistemological
distance as well, which has severed some of the ancestral links to traditional
canonical texts. Colonialism also marginalized traditional stories th at are central to
aboriginal culture. In this creative thesis, I attem pt to address the first issue, by
looking back to Greek classical texts for an allusive plotting structure. Hidden
underneath the ostensible story of a farm er trying to save his elk from the poisons of
development is a retelling of the battle between the Titans and the Olympians from
Greek mythology.
In The Plot Line Bomber o f Innisfree, the elk are named after Titans, and the
resource developers are of Olympian heritage. The struggle between Zeus and the
Titans went on for ten years—at least according to the popular account drawn by
classical poet Hesiod (Graf, 81), and ends with the Olympians (of whom Zeus is
leader) taking control of the pantheon. In this novella, the Titans have
metamorphosed into elk in the Canadian northwest, and are again warring against
Zeus, who has also been transformed, except into the hum an image of an oil and gas
developer. Ares, the god of war, visits the characters in disguise, fomenting rage and
promoting conflict. On the biblioecological map, this plot thread enters into the
14

ecotone where the edge of the historical block meets and intermixes with the other
formal categories.
The merger of two domains of being (nature and culture) could be viewed as
somewhat fanciful from the point of view of rationalism or logical positivism. Much
of western philosophy has typically m aintained a division between hum ans and other
life forms (Soper 40), a binary formulation that is reinforced by discourses
surrounding Subject/Object and H um anity/N ature (Soper 43). The risk, as I have
been made aware through discussion and reading, is th at biblioecological mapping
might rely on the false assumption that a connection exists between the mutually
exclusive domains of language and the forest, the culture of ideas and the physical
world. Other ecocritics, many of them not surprisingly poets as well, have been
criticized for conflating incompatible categories. Gary Snyder, who describes poetry
in term s of a climax ecosystem, might be said to be speaking “merely a m etaphor,”
and “among intellectuals, Snyder’s analogy would generally be regarded as mere
mystification ... language and imagination have come to be defined as realm s th at are
split off from nature” (Bate 247). William Rueckert also despairs of his own analogic
method, finding an inability to “go any further” (Rueckert 121); and ecocritics after
him seem to have come to accept “the always conceptually mediated quality of our
relations to nature” (Soper 72).
Against the labels of categorical foul play or misty-eyed idealism is the vital
testimony and self-evident strength of works th at cross lines and blend worlds to
"deautomatize" the familiar perception. As Edward 0 . Wilson writes, “the key
instrum ent of the creative imagination is analogy” (Wilson 66). I do not go so far as
to claim that, for instance, texts are plants. Not for now, at least. W hat I assert is
more along the lines of interdisciplinary scholarship—that methodological tools from
15

one field can be efficaciously applied to another. This point of view is in keeping with
the "deep ecology" desire “to reject many of the dualistic assumptions (body/m ind;
hum an/nature; knowing subject/known object) that underlie our traditional world
view” (Drengson and Taylor 263). George Lakoff asks, “What kinds of internal
structures do mental images have that perm it some mappings to work readily, others
only with effort, and others not at all?” (Lakoff 231). The way I see it, great writing is,
after all, said to originate in a “fertile imagination,” and it has historically been an act
of inscribing upon non-hum an substances (first on stone with stylus and paint, later
on paper produced by pulp); and so there is, I believe, an analogic compatibility
between literature and ecology that has root in language’s evolution through
inscription on objects from the natural world.

E coton al P ro p erties o f T he P lo t L in e B o m b e r o f I n n is fr e e
On a biblioecological map, The Plot Line Bomber o f Innisfree inhabits a
literary ecotone: that is, a marginal, diversified space on the edge of established
literary stands. The ecotonal properties of my creative thesis are evidenced by its
admixture of sociopolitical, psychological, and zoological themes; as well as in formal
diversity—the analog in ecological term s would be a zone of biotic diversity where
various species of flora and fauna intermingle and differentiate them selves between
predominant ecosystems: “the transitional zone between adjacent biotic
c o m m u n itie s , often with unique nutrients and ecological relationships” (Chalquist 2).

Elk, for instance, which congregate by the borders of forests and stream s, are
ecotonal ungulates (Thomas 388). Jeffery Inkster, in The Plot Line B om ber o f
Innisfree, has had to simulate ecotonal variations in the habitat he controls for his
elk.
16

As a central thread of my creative thesis, I have created w hat I call a prose
poem progression that combines plotting techniques from popular fiction and
narratological theory with conventions of the prose poem. By applying this plotoriented method to a series of prose poems, I am merging the genres of both fiction
and poetry in the spirit of the ecotone.
In his monograph, The Search fo r Origins in the Twentieth-Century Long
Poem, Joe Moffet concludes that “generally, m odernists like T.S. Eliot wish to return
to the past to modify and improve the present, [while] postmodernists seek to revise
or even repudiate m odernist searches for origins” (8). Insofar as my poetic narrative
constitutes a quest for origins, I am working within the long poem tradition
exemplified by Pound’s Cantos and Eliot’s Four Quartets, as well as the poetical
fictions of Jam es Joyce. However, by projecting a search for origins into the future,
and by complicating the narrative through the use of plotting devices, my work is,
according to Moffet’s distinction between types of long poem, markedly postm odern
in its revisionist trajectory and m oments of self-reflexive irony. Combining elements
of both modernism and postmodernism is another ecotonal feature of The Plot Line
Bomber o f Innisfree, and tenets of romanticism figure into my creative thesis as well.
Rousseau, for example, sees poetry as an expression of the most ancient form of
language. In his “Essay on the Origin of Languages,” he speculates th at the evolution
of spoken and written language followed the path from passionate, figurative,
musical—to clear, exact, and cold (296). He goes as far as to claim that, “At first, only
poetry was spoken” (284).
As previously mentioned, Viktor Shklovsky's Theory o f Prose (1929) has h ad a
significant influence on my creative process. He demonstrates, for instance, how the
technique of repetition is fundamental in both the novel and shorter forms like the
17

Russian tale (30), and how this leads to deceleration of plot, modulating the pace of
the story and ultimately its effect on readers. Wisdom is gained by successfully
distinguishing between disguised and real people, and solving riddles. Frequently, an
animal helper will appear in the story, which in Shklovsky’s time became the helpful
scientist or the strong m an (35). In The Plot Line Bomber o f Innisfree, it is the
animal helper and the ranch hand who play an integral role in the plot twists of my
story, and I present to readers a series of characters who might be disguising their
real motivation or identity. The plot of the elusive criminal, which is the basic
framework of my prose poem progression, is in fact a classic narrative pattern (66)
commonly referred to in contemporary narrative parlance as a “whodunit.”
My creative decision to compose using hybrid forms is also a response for one
thing to what I perceive to be many long poems’ failure to cohere, as Pound famously
admitted of his Cantos. Because of the long poem's traditionally discursive nature,
there has been "no need for plot or character development" in the stricter sense
(Moffet 3). It is my hope to contribute to the history of poetic prose by applying
plotting techniques and composing poetic prose passages that act as condensed
chapters. The restrictions on length imposed by the thesis format m ade conditions
favourable for deploying concise forms such as prose poem chapters and
expositional, Active journalism. The 100-page maximum on the other hand lim ited
my ability to resolve all the plot threads or to create a fully realized narrative unity.
Thus, readers will notice plot holes, questions lingering around an uncertain
resolution. Yet plot holes are in fact vital to story telling, much like "tree fall gaps" in
a forest which “facilitate the establishm ent of northw ard migrating species,
potentially providing a pathway for future forest migration in response to recent
changes in climate" (Leithead 3). In biblioecological term s, textual gaps allow readers

to interpret outcomes for themselves. It is in fact common practice to sacrifice
narrative logic to advance the story, as shown by Marie-Laure Ryan’s study, "Plot
Holes, and Narrative Design," an analysis of narrative from various media that
illustrates how plot can break down while still m aintaining an illusion of consistency.
Unity does seem to be, however, the ultimate measure of success in the
classical paradigm of plotting technique. In Poetics, Aristotle writes that, "when some
part is transposed or removed" from a properly plotted tragedy, "the whole is
disrupted and disturbed" (12). Though my goal is to achieve a high level of structural
integration, as per this Aristotelian tradition, I am also working with the m eta­
narrative of explosive rupture, where the rigid coding implied by formal tradition and
airtight plotting are disturbed by a chaotic irrationality symbolized by the bombings.
To incorporate the terminology from George Polti's The Thirty-six D ram atic
Situations (a popular and influential study of plotting scenarios published in 1921),
what I am doing is combining three plot elements: the Revolt, the Disaster, and the
Pursuit. The revolt is the protagonist's rebellious action, the disaster is w hat goes
wrong, and then pursuit begins as the main character escapes into the woods to avoid
persecution. In a pursuit, the attentions of readers are, according to Polti,
... held by the fugitive alone; sometimes innocent, always excusable, for the
fault - if there was one — appears to have been inevitable, ordained; we do not
inquire into it or blame it, which would be idle, bu t sympathetically suffer the
consequences with our h e ro ... In this Situation we feel ourselves, so to speak,
accomplices in even the worst of slayings. (26)
The fact that my story explores the notion of complicity is in line with Polti's
conception of readerly “guilt by association”. As my story unfolds, I incorporate what

19

Aristotle calls “reversal and recognition” (9) to advance the plot and direct suspicions
as to who perpetrated the bombings.
Formalist guidelines have indeed influenced my story-telling technique in The
Plot Line Bomber oflnnisfree; however postm odern influences such as Donald
Barthelme, who subverts narrative structure through self-reflexivity and illogicality,
influenced the story in another way. The plot unfolds not only on the level of
character and action, but also in the flow patterns of symbolism and antagonistic
formal interplay—an element of plotting explored by narratologists like Brian
McHale, who has written articles that focus on the segmentary nature of the poetic
line, viewing the structures of the poem in term s of metrical units, phrases, line
spaces and other gaps in formatting. He argues that these components always
contribute fundamentally to the structure of poetic plot. Segmentation works in
concert with counter measurement: whereas segments are structural building blocks
that contribute to narrative dynamism on various levels, counterm easurem ent occurs
when "one level or scale is played off against measure at another level or scale"
(McHale 17). An imperfect tragedy unfolds on Innisfree ranch, as the accessibility
and "automatization" of plot is waylaid by poetic defamiliarization, then reasserted in
moments of crisis—a narrative tension created by the measure and counterm easure
of discontinuous form.
Employing elements of prose poetry has allowed me to structure the text in
blocks, and to capitalize on the unpredictable nature of th at form. Through a survey
of the form’s history, I have discovered that writers of prose poems the world over
have been attracted to it because of its contrarian appeal as a liminal mode of
expression not controlled by generic prescription. Traditionally, the prose poem has
been viewed as a destabilizing genre, in that it casts doubt on the binary exclusivity of
20

the categories "prose" and "poetry"(Soucy 53). In her epigraph to M inotaurs and
Other Alphabets, Nicole Markotic—a noted Canadian writer of prose poem s—calls
the form "a mythical beast.” Later in the collection she writes, "there is no such thing
as a prose poem, this has been proven" (37). W hat Markotic is saying here, I would
argue, is that when one really starts investigating its formal properties, the concept of
the prose poem breaks apart. Who is to say that a certain prose poem is not in fact
micro fiction, or simply free verse without line breaks? It is within the zone of generic
and formal slippage that I conceived of my creative thesis.
As part of my background research, I studied several works th at belong to the
tradition of stories about saboteurs, including The Secret Agent b y Joseph Conrad
(1907). This novel, based on actual events in fin de siecle England, concerns a group
of anarchists plotting to overthrow the government using explosives. The M onkey
Wrench Gang, by Edward Abbey (1975), tells the fictional tale of a motley crew of
renegades united to sabotage various industrial projects in the American southwest.
Another work I studied is Saboteurs, by Andrew Nikiforuk (2002), which chronicles
several years in the life of Peace Country saboteur Wiebo Ludwig. While The Secret
A gent portrays the bomber as a dem ented antisocial individual, Saboteurs and The
M onkey Wrench Gang take a more charitable view to the point of portraying the
environmental radicals as modern-day folk heroes. My hope is th at The Plot Line
Bomber oflnnisfree will paint a complex picture of people caught up in historical
forces largely beyond their control, where ethics is not solely a litigious m atter of
right or wrong but rather an existential question of why.
As I have shown in this theoretical introduction, the creative attitude that
guided my project is similar, at its most essential level, to the inspiration that
explorers of the past felt mapping the diverse landscapes of North America. Like
21

George Mercer Dawson, I owe much of the initial inspiration to my experiences
working and travelling in northwestern British Columbia. The research th at went
into this paper has taken me into the history of several poetic forms, narratology, and
ecopoetics—and it has taken an act of mapping to find both a theoretical and creative
form capable of containing it all. W ith biblioecological mapping, I am better able to
situate my own creative thesis within a larger tradition, and to com m ent on the
literary community that I am part of here in the North. Working in several different
forms and integrating them through the application of narrative strategies derived
from both ancient and m odern sources has allowed me to pursue the analogic
promise contained in zones of biotic diversity, the ecotones, existing on the edges of
dominant forest and literary stands.

22

“Tonight a n d forever th e W apiti m ove th ru
w ater hem lock
a n d b en d th e ir n eck s into th e soil of th e low er p la in .”
-E bbe B orregaard, 1957

Bitumenlite: T ar-lightener technology from th e Oil Diamond
A m e l i o r a t i o n Centre. Liquid p ro d u c t w h en co ntained w ith in oxygen-free

environm ents. A ttains a g a seo u s s ta te w hen exposed to air.

Did you h ear, m y love, oh did you h e a r
a n aw ard for ra ttin g o u t th e b o m b er
h a s in creased to one-m illion dollars
I’ve already su b m itted y o u r n am e.

23

PIPELINE CONTROVERSY EXPLODES
—18 September 2036—
The Can' tadian State Department has
sanctioned stage three in Pipe Nexus expan­
sion. The collective announcement came to­
day from the p a r l e p a s l i a m e n t a r y
committee assessing the project:
“It was a tough decision, but we be­
lieve in the case of this particular Gasbro
pipeline that the dangers are outweighed by
the necessity o f increased ethical flow to for­
eign markets."
The decision was made public a day
after a 1 million litre spill from an older
Gasbro pipe on the S q u a s hington border.
The third major east-to-west project
of its kind in the past thirty years, Pipe
Nexus 3 will extend 16 hundred kilometres
from the province of Cowberta though PC
Columbia on its way to tanker docks in the
testy river valleys of the northwestern coast.
The goal is to facilitate transport of
bitumenlite to the rapidly expanded Wenese/ Can' tadian Processing Alliance
Outlet overseas and the South Polar
C i v i l ization
Initiative.
Pipe
Nexus 3 is a supposed advancement in high-

pressure transport, and the new pipes are
capable of sending three times as much
b itu m e n lite
as traditional conduits:
approximately two million barrels a day. The
8 billion dollar project—which never received
much opposition due to a media gag-wili
commence construction in May, 2037.
Opponent Jim Rutherford of Animal
Alliance has called the proposed pipeline “an
idiot attempt to trapeze through one o f the
most treacherous and fragile environments
on the planet.”
Cassandra Jeremiah of Skeptic City
TV, on the other hand, calls the project a
necessary step towards avoiding a tenth con­
secutive recession: “We are, in this day and
age, capable o f performing these operations
much less invasively. There is no reason why
human technology and the natural world
cannot merge through integrated systems co­
operation.”
Visit Troutsource frequently over the
days and months ahead for the latest devel­
opments in this story. As an independent
news source, “we release the gag and let
silenced tongues wag.”

24

In th e d istric t cou n ty of E nderbee, fa rth e r in to the m o u n ta in co rrid o rs
th a n th e tow n of B yzantium , on m y th o u s a n d -a c re elk ra n c h called
Innisfree—th a t’s w here you will find m e, Jeffery Inkster, w ith th e elk I serve
a n d th e elk who serve me.
M nem osyne I a n d H yperion I w ere th e first anim al s e ttle rs in
E nderbee. Me, th e first h u m a n settler, I a m th e h um ble elk s e rv a n t w ith
alfalfa feed. All I a sk of th e elk is th e ir velvet a n tle rs , and all th e y w a n t from
m e is food, a fair ratio n of freedom , a n d th e w orsh ip they deserve.
The anim al to u ris ts alw ays w a n t to know a b o u t p red a tio n o n elk a n d
elk m atin g practices. They w a n t to know , for in sta n c e , how a H yperion licks
a M nem osyne from c ro u p to w ith ers before m o u n tin g . I like to tell th e
an im al to u ris ts th a t elk know m u c h m ore a b o u t foreplay th a n m o s t peoples.
As for predation, well, th a t will m o st likely com e u p later on in th is to u r.

25

Forever be m e h appy, h a p p y in th e d istric t of E nderbee, o n m y
th o u sa n d -a c re elk ra n c h called Innisfree. People sta rte d calling m e M ister
H appy Man, a n d com ing to th e farm , a n d now I give tours, a n d I s it o n m y
newly finished porch, a n d I tell visitors a b o u t p ro cesses involving th e lan d .
S u c h a s th e pow ers of controlled d ay d ream s, how som eone c a n n a p before
th ey go dow n to th e river, a n d im agine fish tails form ing a doily p a tte r n a s
th ey doze. Of course th ey 11 never know w ho’s going to catch th e fish w h e n
th ey w ake u p a n d go dow n to th a t river, b u t th ey will know w h ere to place
th e silver spoon w hen th ey dine w ith T itans.
Im agine a n elk, I m ight say, w ho d o lp h in -leap s over th e c o u n te r a t a n
e m erald -h u ed cafe. You c a n tell by th e fallin g -h u m a n -sh ap e d velvet a n tle rs
of a second elk beside th e so d a m ach in e th a t th in g s are a c e rta in w ay, th a t
som ebody like m e, w ho w as b o m in a wet, read erly city in th e low er
N orthw est, c a n la n d in a ra n c h e r’s life.
Some people have a h a rd e r tim e w ith th e im agining, o th e rs find m ore
difficulty in th e doing, b u t a t Innisfree ra n c h th o se actions a re one, th e
divisions are trying to close, w hich is a beau tifu l, beautiful th in g to see.

26

D uring th e halfw ay b re a k of th e m o st re c e n t tour, tw o k id s cam e
ru n n in g th ro u g h th e pines, gripping a sizeable ra c k , each by a tine. W hen
th ey saw th e re s t of th e group w aiting by th e w agon, they d id a o n e -h a n d e d
bugle—bugling being one of th e le sso n s we te a c h o n the w agon to u r. T he
a n tle rs th a t w eren ’t h a rv e ste d for velvet, a n d th a t a re n ’t g naw ed th ro u g h by
m ice, show u p a s lucky finds on th e sp rin g to u rs. I showed th e k id s w h ere
to fit th e ra c k on a big hive of a n tle rs in th e m iddle of the fence o u t front.
O th er a n tle rs—th ere a re m ore th a n we know w h a t to do w ith—stic k from
each p o st a ro u n d th e forest a n d river a n d field. T he alfalfa tra c to r h a s also
got a n tle rs above its grille.
The s u n h a s sp irals of lau g h in g y o u th tw irling off its c e n tre , w ith a
p ro u d E lkhead in th e m iddle, or so you c a n im agine. The elk bugle lo u d e r
a n d th e children scream so n g s of play w ith th e sa m e increasing so la r
urgency. The s u n is so strong, even h e re in th e n o rth . The p o rc h g ets n u k e d
w hen th ere is n ’t en o u g h v enting betw een th e m o u n tain s. D on’t know how
m an y tim es I’ve h a d to refinish it. N o stra d am u s predicted lo ts of m ajo r stuff,
b u t I d o n 't th in k he ever claim ed to know th e w eather, b e c a u se h e re a so n e d
th a t only C haos know s th a t. And I w ould hav e to agree w ith him .

27

As a child in th e 1980s I saw th e sp ecialists firing elk n e ts from a
h erd in g helicopter. T hese zoologists w ere b u sy leashing O lym pic e lk s o n
hillsides to b e tter stu d y how m u c h of each s h ru b th ey chom p p e r sq u a re
foot of b ru sh . T h at's w here I lea rn ed to get th e wild behind a fence.
E nderbee county, being n e a r th e foot p lain s of the R o c k i e s - A l w a y s the-Rockies, w as a good, th e b e st, choice for th e farm, w ith its stre a m s for
h a b ita t a n d irrigation, its w e tn e ss a n d h eat.
We did sla u g h te r th e elk for a tim e d u rin g th e Flesh W astin g D isease
scare, w hen th e tra d e b o rd e rs sn a p p e d s h u t, a n d w e still sacrifice one
p e rc en t of th e h e rd a n n u a lly for th e to u r m eals.
C eased n am in g m y elk M nem osyne a n d Hyperion d u rin g tim e s we
w ere sla u g h te rers for th e FWD cull. O nly so m u c h of this s la u g h te r a p e rso n
can tak e before th ey s ta r t to feel like th e b a d guy in a h ack e r m ovie, w h ich is
n o t som ething we like to th in k a b o u t too deeply o n Innisfree. Still, I
som etim es catch m yself a sse ss in g th e m e a tin e ss of one of m y ra n c h h a n d 's
ribs, like a rtsy boy’s, b u t h e ’s a slim one.

28

Yup, people w ith problem s com e to Innisfree. Don’t k n o w w here I got
all m y w isdom , b u t it’s a so u g h t-a fte r reso u rce, it su re is, a n d I re c k o n th e
m agic's in th e an tlers. V isitors sit o n m y p o rch a n d I play for th e m a n u m b e r
on m y h u rd y -gurdy, w hich is p re tty m u c h a fiddle in a box w ith a h a n d le
th a t, w hen ro tated , c ra n k s th e bow over th e strin g s.
There a re tim es w h en w inds fell w h a t a p p e a r to be th e s tu rd ie s t trees,
tim es w hen th e ro se s sh a k e w ith w asp s, tim es w h en the leaves a n d d u s t
sp in u p in whirligigs of grit. D espite th e d a y ’s condition, a n d n o m a tte r how
d ep ressin g th e big tru c k s w ith th e ir d em o n m ac h in e h eadlight glare a n d
grinning grille, th e galvanized egos, a n d th e destroyed land, I will alw ays tell
th e visitors th ro u g h m y th o rn y w hite b e a rd Try to j u s t keep lovin. K eep lovin
all d a time. It’s th e only so ng I ever w rote for th e g u rd y in fact. C alled “Keep
Lovin All D a Tim e”. T u rn th e c ra n k in th e box a n d c ra n k o u t th e song of love
like ore.
W hen I c ra n k th e gurdy, a M nem osyne will com e tro ttin g to th e p o rch
w ith h e r bib of ra tty c h e st h a ir w et from th e pond. T he h o rn s of a H yperion
tu rn in th e bu ll pen, a n d th e globes on h is forehead absorb m e. I b ru s h m y
fingers th ro u g h brow n fur. Feel w et h a ir r u b a g a in st my sh o u ld e r. H ealing to
to u ch th e elk like th a t, a n d to sm ell th e b e a stlin e ss of th eir fur.

29

W hat if PC C olum bia a n d C ow berta h a d n e v er redraw n th e ir b o rd e rs
in th e 2 0 2 0 s, if th em th e re p ro te ste rs h a d m an a g ed to stop th e E nbrid g e
pipeline from going th ro u g h in th e te e n s? A nd th e C a n ’ta d ia n g o v ern m en t
u p h e ld th e m o rato riu m on ta n k e rs along th e n o rth w est co ast. Well, th e n th e
new G asbro high p re s s u re line w ould n ev er have reach ed th e ta b le today.
O n th e o th er h a n d , E nderbee c o u n ty w ould be b u t a speck of d u s t in o u r
im aginations.
You c an see how E nderbee, b e c a u se of its b ittersw eet b eg in n in g s,
cam e to a s k a b o u t how th in g s com e to g eth er, b e c a u se it se em s like people,
circ u m sta n ce s, objects, places, u n g u la te s, m ice—c a n be so m e tim es very
m u c h alike, or related, or even painfully d is ta n t from each o th e r. Like th e
sto ry of E n d erb ee’s history, w hich so rt of j u s t h a p p en e d d u rin g th e p ro c e ss
of redraw ing th e b o rd er betw een PC C olum bia a n d Cow berta, w h e n th e tw o
provinces p a rte d w ays w ith th e creatio n of a h u g e walled b o rd er. T he h isto ry
of E nderbee a s C om m ons sta rte d w h en on e of th e surveyors, w ho d ied by
fu n g u s-g a s exposure a t a m orel p ro cessin g p la n t n o t long ago, p o o r fella’,
forgot to co rrect h is GPS co o rd in ates w h e n h e w a s working o n b o rd e rla n d
reform ation. You see, th e m ilitary th ro w s in a v ariab le of so m e th in g like
seven m etres into th e satellite grid a t all tim e s a n d , in order to c o rre c t y o u r
read in g s to get th e real u n iv ersal m obile c o o rd in ates, you h av e to w ait a
w eek u n til th e m ilitary rele ases th em online. Well, th e surveyor forgot to
co rrect h is points, th a t angelic d u m b -a ss, a n d so a n area of a b o u t one
h u n d re d sq u a re m iles on th e w e st side of th e R ockies-A lw ays-the-R ockies
lacked definition w ith in a n e c e ssa iy legal fram ew ork. That p a rtic u la r la n d
title survey w as a s a co n seq u en ce to sse d o u t, a n d th e old la n d sectio n in g
m a p w as applied. B u t th e surveyors h a d screw ed u p back in th e d ay too. O n
th e ir m a p s w ere several m issed a re a s, g a p s b etw een Dom inion L and S u rv ey
grids, w hich fell o u tsid e th e m etes a n d b o u n d s. Im agine on e se t of flaw ed
b lu e p rin ts p ressed a g a in st a n o th e r, it w as th a t confusing for everyone
involved. The lan d w as declared C om m ons, b e c a u se it w as n o t in C a n ’ta d ia n
n a tu re to fight over a m eager section, w hich also solved several o th e r
a sso ciated la n d claim s, allowing a w hole b u n c h of different people to sign
th e m o st stran g e a n d new wave tre a ty of self-governance ever n eg o tiated .
T h a t's E nderbee, one of th o se a re a s w hich is technically u n d e r th e
ju risd ic tio n of b o th provinces, b u t is ow ned a n d overseen by th e original
F irst N ations a n d Allies a s a heritag e ex perim ent. D aft Society D odgers a n d
o th er b ack -to -th e -la n d ers sta rte d m oving to E nderbee. The m ix -u p b ecam e
th e h ap p y tr u th for m any, th o u g h local a n tle rs a re still locked over som e
d iscrepancies. Like som etim es th ey try to tell m e th a t, according to PC
ag ric u ltu ral law, I am n o t p erm itte d to farm a n ativ e species like W apiti, b u t
I resp o n d th a t I’ll tak e th e com p lain t to c o u rt. F act is, my c a se is a stro n g
30

one, th e Olympic elk is n ’t native to E nderbee, it's a coastal species. A nd if
th a t a rg u m e n t is n 't good en o u g h , well, I c a n arg u e th a t I s h o u ld b e b e h o ld e n
to C ow bertan law, if any, in w hich c ase it w ould be a m oot p o in t, b e c a u se
you c a n breed a n im als like th is th ere. In o th e r w ords, we g et aw ay w ith stu ff
h e re in E nderbee.

31

Dear Cjaybro,
Veny what Cyyaid herein cutyour peril/. The/ animalpeOple/ are/
giveng/Qaybro-four weekyto get out of our motintainlandy. The/
damage/you/will/begin witneyyCngtonight uybiit atxuyte/of what ly
to- come/ ifyou/ continue/ building through/ the/ traditional/ landyof
Enderbee/. The/time/hay come/for thiycounty to-once/and/for all/
ban development in the/ yacred landy overseen by AUiey a n d firyty.
We/will not ytop forcefully reyiyting until/you/ are/ either abyentor
dead. Have/you/heard of Meech/? In our mountcUnlanguage/thiy
meany Skull/Cruyher. If you/ do- not ytop drilling in our lan d we/
will/ introduce/yowto- Meech/. We/ will/ coUapye/your ikully inthiy
machine/ of rock/ an d we/ will/juice/your brainy and ea t them/ in
front ofyour familiey.
(Subm itted anonym ously to The E nderbee E ndtim es)

32

A rtists a n d inventors, fleeing d em o n s or p u rsu in g a n g els, h av e fo u n d
a hom e in E nderbee county. Like m y neig h b o u r, Memily, w h o ’s a n a b s tr a c t
ex p ression ist p ain ter, a n d grow s lettu ce in th e sum m er, th e n b la n c h e s it
along w ith o th e r p la n ts for th e w in ter reserves. Talking to h e r, y o u will fall
into colour, into all th e colours of h e r g a rd e n a n d a rt, the la n d s c a p e c o lo u rs
of h e r eyes. W ith h e r special som eone, D an-the-M an, she m a k e s a r t in s te a d
of k ids, in d u stria l a rt, w hich h a s recently ta k e n a political tu r n . S u c h a s th e
escap e capsule, called “The M attson R ocket”, th a t looks like a n old, c o m p a c t
ro ck et ship o u t b ack of th e ir converted sto re h o u se hom e. It's got steel
ru n n e rs a n d circu lar w indow s, strip e s of old m ach in e red over to p of th e
riveted white. And a n a n te n n a sticking u p from th e tip. A n o sta lg ic 2001
look. Memily a n d h e r p a rtn e r b u ilt th e c a p su le j u s t in case th e re is no la n d
left after all th e developm ent—a pod to save them , to take off in to th e sk y a.
Sure, th ere are divisions, cliques, a n d tokenism s, a n d all th a t stuffy
stu ff of sm all p o p u latio n s in th e rough, b u t, beyond th at, th e b o n d s a re
tight, a n d we help e a c h o th er out. Like Memily will come ro u n d u p th e elk
w ith m e, an d I will irrigate h e r g a rd e n w h en h e r a n d D an-the-M an go n o rth .
Memily will trad e h e r b lan c h ed cro p s for som e of th e ja rre d fish t h a t th e
F irst N ations bring, I'll sh a re alfalfa a n d hay. B ased on b a rte r, we've g o tte n
along really good here.
I guess we all th o u g h t we really knew each o th er in E n d erb e e. B u t one
of u s in th e com m unity is really good a t keeping a secret, a n d s e c re ts a re
blowing o u r b o n d s a p a rt.

I yank a squealing Hyperion IV by h is ear tag to the Other barn. I lead
him over to th e pillory and get h is head in the hole, th en hobble h is
legs. Then bring the pillory bar down and fasten the iron hasps.

33

GASBRO REACHES OUT TO BOMBER
— 12 October 2036—
A leak sprung from a major Gasbro natural
gas pipeline has been called an act of terror­
ism by company executive Chase Beefrude
in a press release Friday. Beefrude, a major
player in Cowbertan oil diamond operations,
told the scrum of reporters outside the main
headquarters in C anned C o u g a r that he
wishes to negotiate with the perpetrator of
the crime.
“We want the individual responsible
for the bombing to speak to us. It is our hope
that we can make a deal with them face to
face, and try to understand their concerns.”
Insider oil diamond reporter Andrew
Coppemickel points out that the timing of
the sabotage—with the Gasbro Pipe Nexus 3
high pressure project recently okayed in
Parlepasliament and slated for construction
within the next two years—hints at a poten­

tial warning bomb.
“The culture of the bomb is strong,”
Coppemickel told Troutsource. “This most
recent blast, far enough from workers not to
cause them harm but close enough to instill
fear, has all the hallmarks of a strategic
warning charge.”
Several sources say that bombers are
being financed by green angel investors from
Low california.
The bombing comes a week after a
threat letter was mailed to Gasbro headquar­
ters. The letter detailed several of the
bomber’s complaints, including “the corpo­
rate devil’s intrusion upon traditional land.”
The violent language of the threat
letter has created a wave of fern in the
industry, with a temporary halt called on the
construction of several lines in the area.

34

S am so n a sk s m e, have I h e a rd a b o u t w h a t th e Carlyle fam ily b e en u p
to. B lockading Kelly Road. M ad a s all hell a b o u t th e p rospectors. B om bs a n d
blockades. S hit is going dow n.
I heave u p a w et h ay block, w hich n a g s m y b a d shoulder. A nd th e
sides of m y h a n d s are so itchy, like I wore a h o rse h a ir glove o r som eth in g .
M akes m e irritated .
Well, so am I! Mad, I m ea n . T hese re so u rc e folk don’t even know how
to tie a frigging gate k n o t w h e n th e y u s e o u r ro ad s. Lost a few h e a d of elk
la st year. They’re sta rtin g to tu r n m e into a n an g ry old m an!
Probably u sin g all th e d y n am ite m issin g from B union mill, a s a n
exclam ation m ark.
W hat's th is a b o u t th e m issin g dynam ite, S am son?
H eard it on th e radio. N itroglycerine too, from a copper m ine.
O n B yzantium radio? I never h e a rd th a t.
Well, it w as on th e rad io , Jeffery. D am n su re i t ’s th e C arlyles w ho a re
th e ones rattlin g th e G asbro operatio n s.
You a re a n old in v estig ato r dog. Y oung a rts y egg farm er like you, h a h .
You c a n solve th in g s j u s t by looking yourself. They a re try in g to p in
th is on left-wing radicals, b u t w h a t if it’s som eone p reten d in g to b e th e m ?
Like som eone trying to scam th e a w ard m oney.
W hoever th ey are, th e y ’re going to do so m eth in g really really, really
really really really d estru ctiv e one of th e s e days. D ynam ite a n d
nitroglycerine is one thing, b u t you never know w h a t a bo m b er c a n get th e ir
h a n d s on th e se days. L isten, S am so n , I ap p re cia te you helping o u t e x tra
w ith th e elk to u r today. The leaves a re yellow a n d brown, th e b e rrie s a re
anger-red, th e stre a m s are fearful cold, th e geese a re vanished in th e skya.
Have som e b irch sy ru p to ta k e b a c k to y o u r feath ered palace. You give m u c h
of y o u r tim e a s a volunteer ra n c h h a n d . A nd th a n k you for th e eggs.
T h an k s, Inkster! And g u e ss w h at, I j u s t sold all my eggs to a m a n w ho
cam e by on h is w ay to Florida. He really lik es m y special eggs.
G reat to h ear, S am son.
He’s a good ra n c h h a n d , th a t S am so n , a n d h e sta n d s u p for th e lan d ,
b u t does h e really have th e rig h t to com plain a b o u t all the p ro p o sed
developm ent, considering h e d id n ’t even vote in th e last election? A nd w h a t
is th a t stra n g e ra s h h e h a s u n d e rn e a th h is e a rs? Like the on e o n m y h a n d s .

35

The antlers are seven teen w eeks m ature, pulsing in th eir so ft, bloodfilled, pre-calcifled state. I put th e bar o f the saw to th e base o f th e
mauve horn and press th e trigger, begin to slice it off. My earplugs
muffle the sound o f th e H y p e r io n 's scream .

W ith a rts y boy in th e lil tow n of B yzantium
W hen we w en t to th e sto n e b a n k
To deposit th e elk profit to th e elk coffers
We p a sse d th e faw n shop
Saw a n elk m o u n t o n th e wall above a stereo
The fusion of ferocity a n d fin esse th a t is W apiti
A rtsy boy exclaim ed elk
I replied th a t it w a s n ’t an y elk
J u s t a m o u n t, a m o ck -u p of life.
B u t its hollowed corpse, Mr. In k ste r
looks fierce a n d bold
Looking alive m e a n s som ething, d o e sn ’t it?
To w hich I said yes, p a rt of th e soul
Is in th e fu r a n d skin
And n a ils a n d tee th , b u t th e re s t
Is gone
To som ew here below.

36

Sawed one o f the antlers off, th en th e other. 1 put the tw o velv et
antlers into a m etal bucket, then bring them over to th e processing
unit, and release them in to th e grinder hole, w hich crushes it in to a
blood pulp. Turn up the an tibiotic feed before calling it a night.

Som etim es m e a n d th e ra n c h h a n d s hik e d eep e r into th e valleys
beyond th e valleys w here th e h e ad w a te rs of Lethe bubble a n d fro th a n d sp it
forth from th e m antle. We canoe to g eth er th e re o n a rare h o t su m m e r nig h t.
The m o st rec en t tim e a rts y boy w a n ted to ta k e footage, so h e cam e along,
even th o u g h h e is new to Innisfree. Cliffs a re h ig h along th e sid e s of Lethe
w here it gets to th e h ead w a ter area. W hen th e m oon com es o u t, we dock o n
sla b s of rock on th e w all of th e river a n d we e a t so m e m eat o f elk, a n d we
d rin k w ine of dandelion. By th e light of beetle w ood fires we p a in t o n th e
w alls of Lethe in th e im ages w hich w ere first fo u n d here. We p a in t all n ig h t
long: B oatE lks a n d B o atH u m an s a n d E lk H u m a n s a n d E lk b o a th u m a n s, all
in a ra th e r wild form w hich m a k e s se n se in a n all-n ig h t w all p a in tin g
festival. And so we do w h a t th e elk w a n t in r e tu r n for the life of th e ir a n tle rs.

Then I go get another elk, lead it in to th e Other barn. R epeat
procedure. With all 440 , that's about 9 0 0 v elv et antlers. Grind them up,
dry th e pulp, and then send it down to Canned Cougar to g et processed
into packaged powder supplem ents and tested by the CFDA.

37

JEFFERY INKSTER’S MAGIC ANTLER POWDER
H arden Y our C artilage
Give Your M uscles A nd B rain More T orque
T urbo C harge Y our Im m u n e System
E radicate Pain To G et A S tru t O n Y our D ream s
Feel F resh As Wild Tiger Lily N ectar
Becom e The Bedroom B east W ith Zero Flaccidity
W ith Ol' Jeffery In k ste r's
Velvet A ntler Powder
The A ncient O riental T radition, Alive In T he N orthwest.
(D istributed by S u p e r Food a n d Available a t Innisfree. ca
B ottles of 20 Pouches for 20 buckaroos)

“W hat m ight fe e l like ju s t a minor discomfort, or a normal lack o f energy, will,
i f left unrem edied, escalate to more serious p roblem s invohnng p a in a n d torpor
later in life. Taking e lk p o w d e r elixir each w e e k is proven to resolve slow growing joint issu es, a n d a m e n d th e lack o f gallop in one’s life. ”

38

S am son h a s ta k e n it u p o n h im self to se t o u t a n d film th e m a n y
trib u ta rie s of Lethe to show th e people w h a t a pipe spill w o u ld th re a te n , a n d
h is e n th u sia sm for a renew ed pro g ram of elk w o rsh ip is m a k in g u s all
h ap pier. W hen h e visited n eig h b o u r M emily to w ish h er a h a p p y th irty -n in th
b irth d ay a s I suggested, h e fell p rom ptly in to colour with h e r, a n d th ey
talk ed a b o u t a r t all night. M aybe D an -th e-M an 's n o se snuffled u n d e rn e a th
th e u p sta irs sh e e ts in jealo u sy , b u t p robably no t, b ecau se je a lo u s y h a rd ly
ex ists in a b eautiful, altern ativ e place like th is. A rtsy boy now p e n s a le tte r
to Memily in sp ired by th e ir conversation.
Memily, I have fa lle n into colour w ith you, ju s t like In k s te r p re d icted I
would. A s the y ea rs p a s s on through Innisfree, I alm ost fe e l like I a m
becoming an oldster w ho n e e d s to kee p sharing his thoughts o th erw ise th e y
might disappear. H aving explored the d e p th s o f L ethe I can tru ly s a y there
e xists a m ysterious connection b e tw e en p la n ts a n d animals, th e elem en ta l
world, and the hum an. You see, w e contain all o f that, and it co n ta in s u s. W e
are editing our Lethe footage now. I ju s t adore im ages. A nd so u n d s. A n d
w ords. Especially o f Lethe: w here th e river braids, a n d the light strik es, there
are currents o f black, currents o f chrome, currents o f p e w te r a n d o f coal—
braids o f dark tintage. It’s like th e su b sta n c e o f mythological d re a m s a t our
fingertips. A m azing h o w th e p a tte rn s work, coming through th e d a r k sp rin g s
in the ground fro m w here L ethe flo w s. It becom es more full o f n u trien ts th e
fa rth er it g e ts fro m th e source, a n d it’s strange to s e e the b loom s o f algae
along the b a n k s o f clear water. We are guiding th e film , but th e p ro c e s s is
som ehow beyond us. It w o rks its w a y through the images. Going over the
footage is trying to fe e l w here th o se p a tte rn s m ight occur. We are sh o w in g
h o w fo rm s decom pose w h e n th e w id e angle is broken into th o u s a n d s o f tin y
p o in ts o f view. H ow u nexp ected fo rm s arise, bob u p out o f th o se rhythm s.
There are m a n y talented a rtists a n d scien tists seein g through, objectively, to
those rhythm s. I am really glad to h a ve m et you, Memily, y o u h a v e a
penetrating sen se, I d eve n s a y th a t yo u so m eh o w fe e l, or fe e lin g ly conceive,
very deeply, a n d it com es across in h o w you do y o u r art, w ith s u c h colour th a t
one fa lls into ... could th is be love? I don't w a n t to p i s s off D an-the-M an. W hat
you have b etw een you m u st last. A n d th e life th a t y o u and o th ers in E n d erb ee
fa sh io n fro m th e territory is inspiring, a n d really, it's going to b e th e only w a y
... gardening, canning, reusing, helping, seeing, collaborating, a n d being
sufficient unto ourselves, to live, a s th e superstructure comes a-tum bling
dow n. C razy fo r som e to ha ve thought th is century would b e th e e n d o f
history. It's m erely th e beginning.

39

We fill elk-skin b la d d e rs in a trib u ta ry of L ethe called M icrochip.
T hese w aters h elp u s rem em b er tim es from before. Yes, so m e tim es th is
m ak es u s experience d re lk a m s in w hich stu ff from a su p p o sed p a s t a p p e a rs,
like th e G reek gods com ing a s fleas in th e cuffs of th e early la n d a g e n ts, a n d
on b o a ts w here th ey stow ed in E u ro p ea n books d a m p from th e p a d d le 's
spray. We rem em b er how T ita n s tra n sfo rm e d in to anim als, a n d how th e y a re
th re a te n e d again by th e O lym pians of in d u stry . We rem em ber, b u t we forget.
We rem em ber th a t Z eu s w a s a re so u rc e developer a n d th a t M nem osyn es
a n d H yperions th re a te n e d th a t regim e w ith th e trad itio n th e y still have
sad dled on th e ir b a ck s from th e tim e s before th e O lym pians w ere in pow er.
And we forget. How tan g led a re th e m y th s th a t inform th is place.

40

T oC arytuduxriyw ho h a ve/tim e /in th e ir busy scheduleyto- read/,
N a tio n a lp a rk / iy n o t en o u g h /to ytop th is pipeline/.
The/ pipe' which/ keepy going/ the' pipe/ which/ goesth rou gh / a n d /
arou n d/ an d/th rou gh/ a n d / around/.
Jagged/mountain* fanged/gorge/.
I am /the/H ypnotiyt. You/ w ill m eet me/ la te r in/the/ narrative/.
They cam e/after my poetry too:
Your plan* I wrote/ of i t long/ before/you/ came/.
Your name/is Meech/. You/will/find/yourself later on in/the/
wildernew.
If only they knew the/ underpinnings of their sorry nature/.
This is where/ the/ im ported/ spooky m e e t the/ in d ig e n o u s myths.
(Published on a bro ad sid e sta p le d to telep h o n e poles aro u n d B yzantium )

41

Elk? U nspeakable co m b in atio n s of th in g s, o r w hat I’ve re a d a re called
ecotone-loving m am m als, belonging to th o se g ro u p s of p la n t o r a n im a l th a t
thrive w ithin hazy green b ra c k ets: p a s tu re /fo re s t; p a s tu re /c re e k ;
a sp e n /p in e . T hose s o rts of tra n s itio n places.
Some on full alert, o th e rs se d a te (especially on nights I p u t th e sleep
licks in th e ir trough). Like all h e rd an im als, elk ex p ress th e ir u n iq u e n e s s by
th e way they occupy so m an y in d e p e n d e n t sp a ce s in a field, all in differen t
positions. Som e licking a hoof, som e w ith m o ss forked on th e ir a n tle rs to
m ake th em look bigger. Som e p re se n tin g profile, o th e rs flank, o n e p eein g
while a n o th e r sip s from th a t stre am . The w ide view of the elk p a s tu r e g e ts
q u ite am using.
Som etim es coyotes slin k dow n th e side of a draw from th e u p la n d s in
a n a tte m p t to get a c c e ss to th e sm o rg asb o rd of prey. R em inds of w h a t m ay o r
Tim othy said of th e pipeline bom bers, th a t th e y ’re like Wile E. Coyotes,
sneaking a ro u n d to bom b th e R oad R u n n er. However, despite b e in g stro n g ­
legged like a Road R u n n er, able to kick in a coyote b rain o r frig h te n a fox,
elks ten d to leave th e ir y o u n g in frozen hid in g p ositions w hile th e y a tte m p t a
deer-like d istraction.
Elk a d a p ta tio n w as a little w onky, I'd have to say, like w h e n th e m ales
grim ace a n d flash th e ir tee th , w hich w ould m ak e sen se if th e y still h a d long
te e th like they u se d to h u n d re d s of th o u s a n d s of y e a rs ago, b u t it j u s t looks
silly in th is day a n d age. To be fran k , th ey look like grinning d o n k e y s w h e n
they do th a t.
Som etim es I th in k of it a s a n elk m ach in e th a t was m a d e th ro u g h
p red ato r choosing, th ro u g h d ise a se choosing, a n d finally th ro u g h la n d s c a p e
choice: th e elkclockm aker called tim e a n d th e d relk am s th a t a re its brood.
Som etim es I lie a ro u n d w ith th e h e rd in th e w intertim e b y th e
sh ru n k e n stre am s a n d pow dered reed s, w earing m y snow p a n ts a n d m y
down jack et. The elk s w ould choose th is life, b e c a u se at le a st, th o u g h it is a
life of bondage, th ey have a n o p p o rtu n ity to b re a th e the air. A nd I a m n o t
su re they know otherw ise. Prey a re idealists.

42

I w as tight-fisted a b o u t m y su rface rights, j u s t like all of u s in
E nderbee w ere, except for m aybe th e C arlyles, w h a t with th e ir shieldengraved loyalty to progress. B u t m e, d a m n rig h t I refused w h en G asb ro
said they w anted to p u t a well on m y p ro p erty according to th e m in e ral
rights. W ould you let a stra n g e r p u t a fu rn a c e in th e m iddle of yo u r living
room ? B u t pro g ress did w h at p ro g re ss w ould, a craving a rm th a t c a n re a c h
a ro u n d a period of sobriety a n d reg ain its grip, so th e p lan s of p ro g re ss find
th eir way a ro u n d my ran c h , one pipe, two pipe, a n d now som e highp re ssu re th in g proposed. Innisfree h a d tran sfo rm e d into a n isla n d a m id st
squid-laced pipes a n d w ildcat wells. I com plained to City C ouncil a b o u t th e
G asbro bloody b a sta rd proposal, j u s t like everybody else did. In v estig ato rs
from th e A nti-Eco-Terrorist S q u a d a re poking a ro u n d th ese days. E ven in
th e w oods th is feeling of m aybe c a m e ra s h id d en in pin eco n es w atching.
Som e people a ro u n d here, like S am so n , have b een told by th e d o c to rs th a t
th ey suffer from p aran o ia, a n d now h e h a s to ta k e little b ra in eggs th a t th e
w eird ro o sters lay. City sic k n ess h a s infected E nderbee. I c a n se n se th e
u p tig h tn e ss welling u p in m y ow n raise d fists, w h ich I do n 't like, d o n 't like
a t all.
It all got weird, real w eird, after I told people a t the C ity th a t a p e rs o n
n am ed M ars Ares, nice a s b u tte r b u t stra n g e a s g rassh o p p e r, h a d b e en
com ing a ro u n d to investigate th e farm s a n d e n te rin g our h o u s e s like a
com panionable b u t n o t entirely tru stw o rth y stra n g e r. The Oil a n d G as
C om m ission, th e police, could tell m e n o th in g a b o u t this s u p p o s e d la n d
agent, or h is operation. M ars A res d id n 't exist, according to th e ir reco rd s.

Yup, loads o f suspicious p eo p le in th e se parts.
—S a m so n H u c k le b e rry —
S u m m a ry: Organic egg fa rm e r a n d artistic ranch hand. K e ep s all his
chickens in a “hen p a la ce ”. A bit crazy.
D e sc rip tio n : Looks like The Littlest Hobo w ho n ever grew up.
A lia se s: “a rtsy b o y”, “th e eggstatic juggler”

43

After o u r m o st re c e n t sip from th e M icrochip trib u tary , a ro u n d th e
tim e th e pipeline bom bings sta rte d , a m em ory b ecam e clear to m e of th e
early tw enty-first century. W hen th e professional hy p n o tist c am e to
B yzantium . I rem em ber h is loose sw eater, h is th in w rists s h r u n k like th e y ’d
b een b u tc h once. Like a n O lym pian getting over a sickness, o r so m eth in g ,
w as th e m a n w ith th e stra n g e n a m e I c a n n o t q u ite place. H ad th e sk ills to
get th e au d ien ce to m ake a ctio n o u t of th e ir em otion. People w ith in te re s tin g
skills like th e h y p n o tist's a re alw ays com ing to tow n, b u t th ey often d o n ’t
sta y long b e ca u se ru ra l life d o e sn ’t offer en o u g h expanding room or
som ething. Som e leave a real im p ressio n o n th e tow n, th o u g h , a n d I will
alw ays rem em ber th a t h y p n o tist’s show s, how h e h eld sway over all th e
people in th e barroom , how h e m ad e ... u s ... do a n d say th o se th in g s. H is
n am e, it sta rte d w ith a n M ... O ne of h is hyp n o tic tech n iq u e s w a s h a v in g u s
re p e a t th e w ords left margin to right m argin right margin to left margin, over
a n d over again. Now it alw ays com es b a c k to m e, a n d I th in k it d o es to
o th ers w ho w ent to th e show . In th e sam e w ay a popular song leaves a
p e rm a n e n t m a rk on o u r m inds.
B u t life is full of im p o rta n t realizatio n s th a t in the m o m e n t seem lifealtering, a n d even th o se w orld-exploding le sso n s a re soon forgotten.

44

I w as to ssin g alfalfa pellets in to th e eatin g troughs, th e n did th e
a n tle rs—m y la s t ta s k to perform by daylight. W hen I was h e a d in g in to th e
farm h o u se for th e night, w iping b its of blood off m y h a n d s w ith a rag , a
b eetle-black sta tio n w agon h a d c re p t u p th e sh ale driveway, p a rk e d by th e
welcome sign th a t says “G reekings, E lk ste rs!”. A p erso n w ho looked like h e
w a sn ’t from here, n o t from an y w h ere n e a r close to here b e c a u se of h is fancy
overcoat, w hisked briskly th ro u g h th e m ist.
Hello.
Oh, hello.
Shook h is h a n d . Gloves w ere golden leath er, w ranglers. T he grip frail
yet tight.
W hat w as th a t noise com ing from b a c k th ere , Mr. In k ste r? S o u n d s like
som eone’s m olesting a duck.
Pointed b a ck into th e h u t w h ere I’d j u s t com e from. F ro s t blew from
o u r n o strils a n d th e w horls sh o o k h a n d s betw een u s .
J u s t th e elk m aking th e n o ise s they do, M ars.
He gave m e a shadow ed s ta re from u n d e r th e rim of a h a t th a t looked
m ore like a n a n cien t h elm et, p le a te d zinc, b e c a u se of a sy n th e tic k in d of
lu stre. He stom ped th e s h a n k of h is boots on eac h stair, exposing so c k s th a t
h a d trid e n t p rin ts on them .
Listen, I’m a stra ig h t u p guy. H ere to a s k som e q u e stio n s a b o u t th e
bom bings. I’ve been doing th e ro u n d s of B yzantium and th e g re a te r a re a of
E nderbee, collecting stories. T h a t’s w h a t I do, I find the rea l sto ry o u t of th e
fakes. I’m also here to collect m y d u e s.
Nothing b u t real sto ries h e re o n Innisfree, a n d in th e w ider c o u n ty of
E nderbee.
Offered him som e coffee. He w a s su d d en ly n o t the to u g h guy anym ore.
H is talk becam e soothing. He re m in d ed m e of a sleepy bird. Nice a s a lazy
afternoon on a garden patio. Nice a s b u tte r, nice a s pie, n ice a s a c re am
so d a spritzer. The m ore h e spoke th e m ore h e becam e fam iliar from a long
tim e ago, b u t changed som ehow too. M ars Ares.
How long have you ow ned—
—20 y ears, I replied. E asy, e a sy an sw ers. Q uestions so sim ple
th e ir repetition m ak es m e doze.
Now, Jeffery, I a m going to give you th is bag, a n old fa sh io n e d duffle
bag, a n d I w a n t you to p u t it som ew here y o u j u s t w on't rem em b er. O kay?
Yes, M ars Ares.
Now, good, th a t's u n d e r th e floorboards. Now, here (he sn a p p e d h is
fingers a couple tim es a n d re p e a te d som eth in g u n d e r his b rea th ). You h av e
p rep ared th e elk pow der for u s ?
Yes, lots of elk pow der for you, M ars Ares.
45

Good boy. Now give m e all th e pow der.
Yes, M ars Ares.
And s ta r t trying to saw th e ir a n tle rs soon a s they’re p u s h e d , K.
Yes M ars Ar—b u t... w ait a sec now, who th e ...
He show ed m e a p ictu re of a n elk chew ing o n flowers.
Forget. Forget. T h a t’s it. Forget. T he bom b, Jeffery, it w e n t off tw o
days ago, n e a r y o u r property. You ev acu ated . Mr. Inkster, le t’s h e a r a b o u t it.
Mr—

46

The so u n d s of th e S w ainson th r u s h in th e evening is th e m o st m u sic a l
bird song you could im agine. T hrilling is th e m u sic before n ig h tfall com ing
in th ro u g h th e w indow s of th e farm h o u se. The w in d s out of th e skya, w ith
th e bird song from tw ilight's design in th e trees. Som e folks a ro u n d h ere,
w hen I say “skya”, th ey say, "Huh. W hat?" They say, "you sa id so m e th in g ...
did you say G aia? W hat does th a t m ean , Mr. Inkster?" I sh a k e m y h e ad . I
say th in g s fu n n y from being w ith th e elk for so long. W hat I really sa id w a s
"in th e sky", w ith a n a cc en t following it. S om etim es I use a n a, o r it s o u n d s
like I do, on th e end. My m om ’s side w ere from C onstantinople. A cce n tu ate
funny. I d o n ’t know w h a t th ey m ea n by G aia. I sa id skya!

—D an A ssa n g e —
S u m m a ry: environm ental w e b site designer. W orks on m ysterious
global contracts. Came u p fro m Squashington, w h ich is sq u ish ed u n d e r
PC Columbia. N ature’s Comm on L a w sp o u se o f Memily.
D e sc rip tio n : W ashboardy stom ach, blocky head.
A lia s e s : Dan-the-Man, Big Guy, W arbler (w eb ID), C h u n ksister (web)
47

Well, m aybe I have seen a n elk eatin g flowers before, b u t only on ce, all
th o se petals flapping o u t betw een its g ian t rat-lik e front te e th —its fu rry n e c k
cran ed from one p a tc h of flow ers to a n o th e r—Wild Lupines, N odding
Trillium s, S lender Lady’s T resses—th e flow ers tu rn in g into th e ir co m m o n
n a m e s th e n th e ir scientific n a m e s, rig h t o u t of th e p lan t book— L u p in u s
Perennis, Trillium C em uum , S p ira n th es Lacera Gracilis—th e n lying a g a in a s
plain p e ta ls on th e grass. T he elk cam e close enough, b u t I co u ld see n o
n u m b e r tag on its ear, it w as no H yperion, it w as a free elk, m ay b e a so n of
th e H yperion a n d M nem osyne breed in g stock, its h e a d low ered so its w orldreflecting eye w as parallel to m y ow n two. I w ork so h ard b ein g lazy o n th e
ra n c h (elks p retty m u c h look afte r them selves) th a t I don't h av e th e m o st
exciting d rea m s w hen I do call it a n ig h t, t h a t ’s w hy last n ig h t's w a s so
strange, how th e elk chew ed d a n d elio n s a n d th e n th e colour of th e flow er
ab sorbed th e h e ad of th e elk in a halo. In th e drelkam , th e w hole e lk h e a d
w as m oving slow, aglow. T h a t's w h en I h e a rd th e voice of th e elk—like H a n k
from th e b aseb all field. H ypnotized I felt by th a t chew -chew ing jaw , t h a t u p and-dow n outfielder m otion ... "mmm, th e re a re n u m b e rs in th e s e flow ers,
mmm” a n d chew ed m ore, sw inging its n e ck a n d a n tle rs from flow er to flower,
“mmm, left m argin to rig h t m arg in rig h t m argin to left m argin ... th e re a re
n u m b e rs in th e se flowers, m m m , g re a t h u g e n u m b e rs, left m a rg in to rig h t
m argin, n u m b e rs too big to w ork w ith, rig h t m argin to left m a rg in ... k eep
getting lost in th e se deep n u m b e rs, mmm, a n d forgetting th e fac t t h a t m y
blivets h u rt, th a t m y n u m b e rs h u r t th a t m y stu m p s are c u t a n d b leed in g ...
b u t th ere a re n u m b e rs a n d th e re a re b o m b ers a n d there a re p e n d u lu m s of
love in th ese flowery m argins. And th e re is pain." The elk b u c k -to o th s its
w ords...
I w ake u p . My pillow is w et from te a rs a n d saliva.
It does m ake their antlers fu n n y fo rked , cutting them all o f f like that,
don't you think, Mr. Inkster?
S uddenly th e elk a p p ra ise m e differently over m orning feed, w ith
pained sq u in ts a n d d istru st.

—C h e ry l H i l l S u m m a ri/; C ross-dresser a n d recently perform er. Lives b y th e lake
z h e calls N a ked W alden.
D e sc rip tio n : Zhe h a s dogs a n d g e e se a n d goes out on the
highw ay a n d w a lk s kilom etres a n d kilom etres d ressed in p in k
ballerina drag.
A lia s e s : "Cottage Muffin", "T horeau's Fantasy"
48

Hey Inkster, w ondering if you w ould m ind com ing over 'ere (Artsy boy
h a s w h at h e calls h is "S uper 8" p o in ted a t m e ag ain . He's w earin g clam
diggers a n d old-style loafers). Com e on, I'm going to film y o u by th e alfalfa.
W ants to film m e throw ing som e feed into th e troughs, th e th in g bein g
th e m agnificent sky giving th e look h e w a n ts. Falling alfalfa th ro u g h th e ra y s
like it w as th e E u p h ra te s a n d th is w as a s u n initiation.
Cry som e rea l Hollywood te a rs in fro n t of th a t Gone W ith The W ind
su n s e t, says he.
S am son h a s a w ay of tw isting m y a rm , brin g in g ou t th e m e d ia clow n
in me. Find m yself sp eak in g all so rts of w ords w h en he film s. T h a t really
a re n ’t like me. Like I'm playing th e p a rt of a n elk farm er. T h is a rts y boy s u re
h a s m anaged to s tir th in g s u p a t Innisfree, com ing from th e m e d ia so a k o f
th e Big Sm oke, a s he did. H e's a h a rd w orking y o u n g m an, b u t h e gets
cheeky a n d overconfident som etim es. The th re a ts from th e b o m b e rs a re
really ro u sin g him .
You’re holding stro n g a g a in st th o se G asbro b a sta rd s. You h a v e for
y ears. You are th e leader, th e fearless lead er of Innisfree, if n o t of all
E nderbee. Now hold u p th e alfalfa, In k ste r. And tell u s w h a t it's all a b o u t.
Well, if you h a v e ta know , th is h e re is alfalfa, a n A rab-nam ed crop
w hich we grow on Innisfree. M eans king. T he k ing of plants. T here. Now we
h a v eta go p u t som e m ore fence u p w here th e ru ttin g Hyperion h a v e to m it
a p art. And get th e sa lt licks. T u rn off th a t in fern al g u n cam era. T h is is no
tim e for gurdy a n d gam es.
Hold it u p . Hold it u p to th e su n . O ne m ore time.
M nem osyne XXVI a n d H yperion IV follow m y h an d c u p p in g th e alfalfa
wistfully, th e ir s n o u ts ju m p in g ab o u t.
An elk projection for o th e rs to see? Com e, m y to u rists, com e to th e elk
farm an d ride th e carriage th ro u g h th e hills of Innisfree. E lk will d ra g all
y o u r w orries aw ay a n d m ak e you h a p p y like m e. Give me a b re a k ...

49

BOMBING NO LAUGHING MATTER?
25 June 2037—Troutsource Art
In art news related to the bombings, an
international satellite in Free Space has
managed to perform a language MRI of the
pipeline plot, though the location remains
scrambled due to Enderbee's hazy
coordinates. The iterated text translation of
the bomber's actions came out as prose
poetry in the satellite decoder.
Gravy To Overthrow the Cheese
Curds, a radical humour cyber NGO, has
posted the poetic interpretations of the
industrial sabotage on their decipherment
page. Pipe Watch, an industry security
watchdog that employs ten thousand pipe
observers, has now also hired a team of
Harvard and Sorbonne-educated poetry
scholars to decode the prose poem
progression that the satellite scan is picking
up.
"The sequential nature o f the poem,"

said Pipe Watch think tank director Derrida
Bloom, "makes the form recall a pipeline
itself, with a plot that goes through in a gush
of symbolism."
It is Pipe Watch's hope that this
"prose poem progression,” once inter-preted,
will mean something, namely the revelation
of the bombers' identity and location.
Though Derrida Bloom remains mystified
about any stable interpretation thusfar.
The anti-hero, as we can tell by the
first prose poem in the progression, is
attempting to lie still as s/he waits for the
moment to strike.
Follow this visualized interp-retation
of the prose poem on the Pod-view feature
on the Troutsource website. Your source for
undiluted reality, the wilderness of
perception, well spring o f revivified senses.

50

Sun still sets in Enderbee n o t orbital th o ught. Red navigation beacons across on Scylla ridge
valley south. Charge in hand click tiny green light octanitrocubane initialize signaler. R etreat
back counting GPS m etres away through th e animal paths through th e plant p ath s through
th e reptilian to th e ancient th e ancient mind to em erge. Now beating d e e p h eart, press
button, key to ignite bu tto n to blast w hat is forw ard. A m om ent of h esitation. 2026AD,
2027AD, 2028AD ... 2037 BC. Bird noise. Bird peeps. Left margin to right margin. Calm.
Future. Prison. Manacles. Ignition m ust wait. Retreat. Patrol copter coming. Return on dow n
th e stem of th e Iron God's flute. The Bronze T ree's roots. Boreal cam ouflage. Charybdis
ridge north above quaint sleepy Byzantium along wall of survivor lilacs th re e kilom etres up
ridge. Smile of ancient monks of China grim ace of sour Christian elect. Worldly inklings
fragrant path into ferm ent of autu m n berries gorse and gargantuan leaves of cow parsnip.
Know th e animal paths back-of-hand known. Hunchwalk ov er mesa. M om ent n o t precise,
off by a nano-fraction. Endangered cedar spirits uncorked. W estern dragons slain. Lizards
paralyzed in th e deserts of law.

Eastern dragon engorging a cross. H ero's w ork done.

Hunter's work done. No past. No future. Story and fact collated. Twilight b etw een w orlds.
Pegasus m eets M oose. Toward th e pipe, th e pipe by th e n orth peak of Charybdis ridge. Blue
spruce forest Engelmann eccentric. Above tow n drenched in prophetic oily shadow to w ard
th e pipe. Toward th e pipe. Destroy w h at is forw ard.

51

J u s t a b o u t one w eek before th e first elk m iscarriage a n d th e b o m b in g
... while fixing fence a n d h o p in g to get a glim pse of any sa b o te u rs in th e
b u sh , I sp o tted w h a t a t first I saw a s two fru m p y ish gals em erge from a
ru sty pick-up, each in b lack a n d re d p laid a n d w o rk p a n ts a n d g u m b o o ts.
O ne w ith a jo in t betw een th e ir lips. D idn’t recognize it w as C heryl Hill
b e ca u se zhe w a sn ’t p rettied u p in d rag —b u t m ore of a tom boy o u tfit, w h ich
w as even m ore confusing th a n z h er u s u a l c ro s s h a tc h ways. Z he a n d z h e r
friend were shoveling gravel in to th e b a ck of th e ir pickup—g rin d of sh o v els
o n w et sto n es—a p p a re n tly poach in g G asb ro gravel, b e cau se t h a t w a s n e a r
th e new right-of-w ay. The jo in t m agically d isa p p e a re d w hen th e
tran sto m b o y s saw m e ap p ro a ch , b u t I told th em n o t to w orry, I w o u ld n ’t
sn itc h to b o rd er patrol.
I a sk ed th em , a re y o u r h u s b a n d s hom e m ak in g soup?
H a h a. O h, you are so funny, C heryl chuckled.
W hat a re tom dykes doing o u t in pipe lan d , if you d o n 't m in d m e
asking. And w h a t's th e gravel for?
Som eone is paying u s to p o ach th is gravel for them . G ood m o n ey for a
little g ru n t w ork.
And th e less gravel it will be to go in to th a t w ound th e y 're sta b b in g
th ro u g h to th e coast.
O h yes. The pipeline. W e’re going to dyke th e pipe.
Lesbos th em G asbros?
P erh ap s, b u t w h a t’s it to you? W hat do you know a b o u t fem ale d esire,
please, In k ster? You a re th e only farm er w ith o u t a wife in th e H ellenic world.
C heiyl's friend s tu c k h e r shovel in th e gravel hard. Y eah, zhe said.
I have to m ake a long hm m m , like I’m chew ing the ch allen g e over, even
th o u g h th e an sw e r's a cinch.
Seeing to a w o m an’s desire, you see, I say o u t the c o m e r of m y b e ard ,
is like ten d in g to several b e a c h fires a t th e sam e tim e. You h a v e to find a fire
fighter’s u n d e rs ta n d in g of th e erotic flam e, also th e a rs o n ist’s fin esse, to
keep th e m an y fires b u rn in g to g eth er to w ard s a blaze.
Hey, n o t b ad , elk daddy. C heryl's friend seem ed satisfied w ith m y
answ er.
Keep lovin' all d a tim e, rem em b er now.
I w inked a t Cheryl, n odded, th e n k e p t following the p e rim e te r of th e
fence, th in k in g how lively life in E n d erb ee is, how som e of th e o p e n n e ss th a t
com es w ith th e city influence is m ak in g th e c o u n try ju s t p la in m o re fu n .
Som e d o n 't like th e new sex ta lk a n d sa rc a sm , b u t I find it a fu n n y
alternative to innocence.

52

And I h a d som ething else to m u ll over now too: how I sa w w h a t looked
like a pipe bom b sticking o u t from u n d e r th e b a ck se at of th e ir p ick u p
tru ck . G otcha, I th in k .

53

—The Carlyle fam ily—
S u m m ary: w on a two-million dollar lottery in th e '2 0s, b u t b lew it all on
expensive booze a n d retrofitting d o o d a d s fo r their eighty-som e collector
vehicles. O wn a n d operate w h a t so m e call a "g re a sy ” refurbishing b u s in e s s
som ew here in the fu ll section boonies.
D escrip tio n : sn o tty children, velour riding p a n ts, toothbrush sta sh e s.
A lia se s: “The Car F am ily”, “T h a a a t H o u se ”

S u m m a ry o f S u m m a rie s: T h ese are so m e o f u s suspicious p e o p le o f
E nderbee and the w rite-ups I do to k e e p illiteracy a t bay. A re th e p eo p le out o f
jo b s the ones who are p is s e d off, or is it th e p eople w h o like their la n d s so
much, or is it Firsts, w ho have se e n th e dam a g e develop fro m th e beginning?
Who done i t ...
Nobody likes to be infiltrated, occupied, run through by m eta l conduit. So
really, m aybe the question sh o u ld be not, *Who d one it?” but, “Who d id n ’t do
it?”

54

M idnight iris open, p la n e t conscious. F arm h o u se w indow fram e s field.
O n th e wing, n ig h th aw k sw allow s flying a n ts o u t in my p a s tu re s . Lit p in k orange a n d p a n th e r black. M oon ra y s dram atize th e willows w h ere th e elk
forage. In th e foothills b eh in d , gas s ta c k s flare th e ir excess in yellow ch em o
honey. W hat o u t th a t fram e do m y tire d eyes c o n ju re or see—a three-legged,
fo rk-headed th in g w alking u n d e rn e a th th e edge of th e trees, b e n t-b a c k e d ,
dipping in a n d o u t of h a lf-su n k e n b o u ld e rs w hich h um p th e field. N a tu re ’s
perfum e, th e th re a d e d w ind, a n d som e chem ical woven th ro u g h th e w in d s.
Night b ird s’ calling relaxes m e. The figure h o ld s a still ear b etw een th e
willows a n d ald ers, listen in g to th e chim e of a key clicking in th e n ig h t, a n d I
sin k b ack dow n into m y covers to sleep a g ain a t th e sam e tim e a s th e figure
levitates aw ay into th e fields a n d th e n ig h th aw k stick s its h e a d b a c k u n d e r
its wing, la sh e s fluttering over po m eg ran ate-co lo u red eyes one th ird th e size
of its h ead . W hen I sleep, too, I see in a d relkam th e torso of t h a t p e rso n
float th ro u g h th e grain in th e d irectio n of th e m ountain, a n d all th e elk, o n
th o se nig h ts, seem to m igrate a c ro ss Innisfree from th e p lain in to th e forest.

55

A nother eru p tio n took o u t a w ellhead a few kilom etres from Innisfree,
w hich c a u se d a so u r gas leak. S o u r g as com es from the e a r th bow els w h ere
Lethe flows u p from. It is invisible a n d le th a l a n d scentless like d e a th itself.
No c o u n try for old elk farm ers. W hat th e heck, eh ? When I w a s c h a sin g
dow n a H yperion for a n tler rem oval th e o th e r day, a gas s ta c k flared so lo u d
it m ade b oth of u s ju m p off th e slo u g h b a n k into th e reeds. H u rtin g m y old
m a n body in a b a d way, a n d sc arin g th e b e je su s o u t of th e H yperion.
I'd prefer to j u s t sit all day on th e p o rch in b a re feet tick led by th e
w ind th ro u g h m y callu ses a n d b u n io n s. R em inisce about m y m o th e r, how
sh e w ould sit w ith h e r la te s t book from big old Powell’s b o o k s in
P ortlandsea, a n d how w hen sh e re a d sh e w ould so o n sleep (left m arg in to
rig h t m argin, rig h t m argin to left m argin) a n d th e couch float alo n g th e river
of th in g s in th e h o u se, a n d th e d ra p e ry a n d furn ish in g s in a d eep com forting
pool of hom iness.
I chalked a m oose on th e sidew alk, t h a t ’s right. While m y m o th e r sle p t
on th e couch beyond th e algae-green c u rta in s , I chalked a m au v e a n d
bloom -coloured m oose. On th e h o t s tre e t in m elting ru n n in g sh o e s b esid e
th e school, h u n c h e d over w ith a th ic k cylinder of chalk. T he lu n c h m o n ito r
saw, a n d she escorted m e to th e office. Two te a c h e rs w hispered in e a c h
o th e rs’ e ars, a n d pointed a t m e a s I s a t on th e b e n c h w aiting in a b a th of
h um iliation for th e principal. They th o u g h t it w eird th a t I h a d d ra w n th e
m oose in p in k c h alk o n th e school wall, a n d th ere w as som eth in g else a b o u t
it th a t they th o u g h t w as th e sign of a pro b lem atic destiny.
T rouble, trouble. No c o u n try for a n old elk farm er like m e.
It’s th e m o st n e a te s t thing. How everyone’s an x ieties seem to fall asleep .
W hen th e b ird s sing (Right m arg in to left m argin).

56

Right margin to left margin. Left margin to right margin right margin to left m argin. Pipeline
full of ichor. Lights shine up on Charybdis, Byzantium dow n below. Scylla on o th e r side.
Enderbee to p of funnel into eskers bordering myth. Camouflage has becom e u tte r
invisibility. Encrypted rem ote. Clear. Sunday. Reconnect detonation device. Rocks along
Scylla connect like chains. Trees are fence posts blocking, sheltering, bunker tre e well Anne
Frank. W inter now, w inter on blowy day trackless w hite flakes of sky. Frosted roads lead
forward or backward. Off-road invisible. Investigators com e and gone w ith th e ir rum ours of
rew ard. A m om entary freeze on m em ory. Only tw o directions. One ev en t interlocks with
another. W hat m ust be m ust be. There is no agency, just th e agentless calculation o f blocks
placed in a line. An offer and an acceptance denied. G ram m ar trots straight according to th e
rules. The animals have spoken, cloven gram m ar and forked words.

Fury of ancients propels action's sail, tw isting passion fire gimlets through w aterw h eels of
myths ab o u t moving and unsettling th e settlers. Every contraction is an action dictated by a
myth dictator. Earth decreed fallen ones decreed w h at th e bird has elk has. This is w h at th e
great ecosystem of th e N orthw est has decreed. This is w hat Ares says m ust be. Rage against
rage. Titan against Olympian. Olympians crafted w estern progress Titans ta k e back w h a t's
theirs. No passion, no em otion. A decision m ade and stuck with. Left margin to right margin.
Any do u b t is dispelled by th e birds, nothing except a blank m ist in th e h eart. Right margin to
left margin. To secure second d eto n atio n device. Up to four. Timed to go off sequentially. At
bottom of w aterbody swim swim u n d erw ater Beowulf and Iron Grendel swum sw um dow n
to th e bottom w here sunken frog bellies levitate, dow n to th e letter b o tto m . P ersephone
down down Persephone. Skin b eats benthic. Persephone w eed bed hair d row ned tow ns
down people m oat floating. The Q ueen's nam e spoken m eans impact, concussion, rape.
Locate pipe a t b ottom of river fighting th e currents as mighty scaled to rp ed o . Dolphins
deactivating bom bs on th e ocean floor hum an activating a bom b a t th e to p of th e ocean
floor terrestrial.

57

MARLOWE SAYS PIPELINE PLOT NO DELUSION
—20 October 2036—
“We are offering a 500,000 reward for any headed guards, scrambled to the fountaininformation leading to the arrest of the pipe­ head o f muses, to set a keg o f Greek Fire
line bomber.” So said CEO of Gasbro, Chase there, in the hopes o f salvaging some inspi­
Beefrude, in a public statement Sunday ration. A long fuse the figure laid on its de­
scent back into the saddle o f the peaks, to the
morning.
The second bombing in just over a base camp o f undernourished creatives. A
month rocked a gas line near Byzantium, in­ wick-lighting celebration ensued. The figure,
dicating that the bomber could be working who, after the climb, bore an even stronger
resemblance to a shrunken god, who now, as
on both sides of the West-Central border.
Catfish Marlowe of the PDNQ fire starter, wielded a power o f suggestion
downplayed fears that this could be an inside that would boil through millennia, and who
knew s/he would be divided into several
job carried out by border patrol.
“The screening process for all provin­ incarnations were the blaze to happen,
cial borders is extreme. What we are looking watched with the others the flame shriek up
at here is most likely an international plot of the fuse toward the mountaintop where its
some kind, but focused within PC Columbia. blast, they wished and dearly hoped, would
Paranoia is no longer a delusion; it is the bust loose the muses from their lofty prison,
substance of society and the cause of our de­ that creative spirits be blown from their cas­
kets o f stone. That, like an old poem in tight
cline.”
Stay tuned for more up-to-the-second metre, the floor of the form buckle and the
updates on the Troutsource blog, and con­ walls o f margins collapse, inspiration as­
tinue reading the prose poem feeds through semble from the broken metre o f ribs. The air
Podview.
proved too thick for the galloping spark
Derrida Bloom has written a piece of however—once the flam e drew up to the
scholarly poetry about his own to attempt to higher altitudes, it slowed to a daddy-long­
trace some of the mythological themes of the legs pace, ember without a breath, red worm
in a puddle, no human hand to cup and
satellite feed of the prose poem progression:
Up on Helicon: fourteen statues o f shield, fo r modem humans had not been cre­
hermaphroditic muses molded out o f the ated by Prometheus yet, there was no such
sides o f a fountain spitting the saliva o f the thing as a palm to cup; the spark, it lay
gods—this is the first image relating to the meekly fo r long periods deprived o f air, just
B.C.E. imagery o f the PPP. All the inspira­ a tiny ember in the lichen, and the artists
tion from the Hippocrene was withheld from waited at the bottom fo r generations fo r it to
artists, only emperor Zeus and his Olympus draw up to the keg. All expected that a ro­
elect were permitted to attend the lapping mantic modernism o f sorts would come
fountain and sip its inspiration. There seems about from the atoms in the expected explo­
to have been one figure unknown to history, sion, a photonic inspiration. But history had
though, who, despairing o f artist’s sickness, ceased to blossom like that. The ember
with bottled air ran the gauntlet o f animal­ merely inched its way up the infinite slopes.
58

A t some point, one would think, the little
spark must have got Helicon fountain lit up,
because today the muses sit on tin roofs, in

hot grottos in the grammarian favelas. Other
muses have hoofs and antlers and shawls o f
hair. Aesthetics is all over the place.

59

Mine elk a re Olym pic elk, of th e W apiti overarching variety. T he
biggest n o n -ex tin ct kind. T he n a m e of th e elk h a s a ghost h isto ry . F irst th ey
were called sta g s b e c a u se th e E u ro p e a n se ttle rs th o u g h t th e y w ere seein g
th e red d eer like b ack hom e. B u t th ey alw ays th o u g h t, “gosh, th is s u re is a
big red deer I killed.” The E n g lish called elk 'elk', b u t they w ere u s in g th e
w ord in reference to th e E u ro p e a n m oose, w hich th e y th o u g h t th e y saw
lum bering th ro u g h th e b u s h e s over h e re in N orth America, a sp ecies
confusingly called elk over th e re , b u t w hich, over th ere, w a s a c tu a lly q u ite
different th a n th e N orth A m erican m oose. S e ttle rs also lea rn ed th e
Algonquin term m oose, b u t th a t d id n ’t stick well w h en applied to th e stra n g e
stags, b e cau se of th e obvious differences b etw een th e lu m b erin g m oose a n d
th e straig h t-sh o u ld ere d elk. E lks w ere n o t so easy to nam e, no. It w a s a
b e a st th a t said no to o u r a tte m p ts to categorize it. W hich is w hy th e y a re
tru ly m ythical to me. I d o n ’t sla u g h te r th e elk anym ore u n le s s th e y get lam e.
I do do th e to u ris t thing, su re , a n d I do do th e a n tle r thing, w h ich som e
people d o n ’t like.
Artsy boy, w ho is also a creative w riter, h e told me t h a t th e elk is a
prose poem . He lea rn ed m e stu ff like th a t a b o u t poetry. A bout how
ap p aren tly it w as T.S. Eliot w ho d en ied th e p ro se poem its s t a tu s a s su c h ,
b e cau se p o etiy for him im plied ru les, a n d th e p ro se poem h a d n o ru le s
b ecau se it h a d no line b re a k s to m e a su re ru le s w ith. The p ro se poem alw ays
slips a ro u n d betw een slop b u c k e ts. So I m u s t agree with m y ra n c h h a n d : elk
are prose poem s b e ca u se, like th a t literary exam ple, they w ere nev er
properly nam ed, a n d th e re w a s alw ays som e confusion over exactly w h a t
th ey were, b u t th a t is guessw ork.

60

Final, fifth device secure. One on each segm ent fo r a mile. And aerial scram blers to stun
shut-dow n sensors. Feeling th e uncovered pipe. Sum m er. Disguised as w elder. Reach with
left arm up around cem en t ta p e r node. Knee ground in gravel. W on't fasten properly to
strut. Wiggle thighs sideways, readjust cen tre o f balance. Reach th e d eto n atio n device
around th e steel wall of a b uttress this tim e. Cluclonk goes magnet. Bingo. Grab rem o te
from watch pocket, check signal, re tre a t into alpine, again check signal. Bingo. Now wild
tiger lilies into th e lupines into th e colum bines into th e aphid-covered brush th a t has
m igrated everyw here th e pilgrimage of plants disappear to reappear d isappear g rasshopper
fiddles. M outh m andibles owl clicks its beak tran ce of evening. Ha. Boo. Ha. Move. Ha. A
green-robed pathway. Lily pads. Wading. Guards asleep in their m ud w agon w atching
pornography of pipes stuck into holes. Byzantium aglow with its shiny night arm o u r b eaten
into shape by th e hearts of th e tow nspeople Joagj [ressire. jogj [ressire jpg jogj d p m e Impw
jpw jogj jo t bittpm com am d bp;d bp;d ;ole a greujpid b a d o m tp t je bisj am d suis th e spim d
icimerci pf th e ex;prosopm os th e ju[pcrem e actopm w opm s amd w prds om bp,b tra m c e /s
s,asjom g/ a b ear into alder a seal into steel w ater symbol into m etaroar.

61

Well, it all sta rte d I d o n 't know w hen, well, it all sta rte d a w hile ago I
g uess. W hy does it m a tte r if it w a s before o r after th e bom bs s ta rte d ? T he
tim e w hen I w ash ed m y h a n d s in th e eaves b a rre ls, and sp la s h e d th e
rain w ater on m y face, it m ad e m y eyes get bleary. It was th e ch em ic als
p u m p ed u p from way dow n in th e e a rth —m e th a n e , benzene, a n d lead,
com ing in clouds a n d co n d en sin g in o u r d rin k in g w ater. Saw S a m so n
th ro u g h m y tea rs, w iped th e m off, a n d trie d to a c t like my jovial self.
W h at’s u p , S am son, how did th e to u r go? Not good, ju d g in g by y o u r
expression.
The kids noticed som ething, th ey did. B ack th ere n e a r th e creek.
Noticed w hat?
S am son leads m e th ro u g h th e ta ils of g rass, th e heavy b lu e of th e day,
th e spillbottle colours along th e horizon ... a n d th e re , in a s a u c e r of sp lay ed
g rass ... could see a M nem osyne try in g to keep h e r head a le rt b u t obviously
ex h au sted ly w ilted from som e g rea t stra in , th e a n tle rs like ro ta tin g blivets
sticking u p from th e high b u s h c ra n b erry , tu rn in g wearily a ro u n d in h e r
surveillance m ode, n o t even tru s tin g u s a t first, a n d we follow a co rd of flesh
com ing o u t of h e r c an a l to a d e ad elk fe tu s ... in sig h t of one of th e g as w ells
over there.
I cradled th a t d ead calf, all its veins visible th ro u g h its tr a n s p a r e n t
skin, skull underdeveloped a n d p a p e r-th in , saggy, its hooves d rip p in g dow n
from m y h a n d s, a n d saw M nem osyne th ere , h e lp less with p la c e n ta d an g lin g
o u t from h e r beh in d —th e ro m a n n u m b e r XX looking im perial a n d official on
h e r yellow e a r tag. My w hole life’s w ork w a s su d d e n ly faltering: p ro jec ts b o m
dead before they hap p en ed . Yellow, n ev er-b reak in g clouds above th e h ills a s
m ore sites w ent in.

62

S am so n saw so m eth in g w h en h e w as playing back th e im ag es of
Lethe. W hat h e saw h e said sh o u ld n o t have show n u p a t all o n film b e c a u se
it w as of a different sp e ctru m . Real hazy footage. Of som e s o rt of sab o tag e
carried o u t by bodies difficult to know , unid en tifiab le b e ca u se th e old ta p e is
p artly decom posed a n d th e im age sludge-lined. I am not so far gone in th e
ru stic world th a t I am u n a b le to see a scree n a n d tell w h a t's going on
th ro u g h th e d isto rtio n th o u g h . T hey're b a tte rin g cem ent in a pickle b u c k e t,
p a stin g a m ain valve a t th e m eterin g sta tio n w ith cem ent lac ed w ith sh o tg u n
shells.
S am so n rep o rts having sipped from th e M icrochip trib u ta ry in o rd e r to
rem em ber, a n d realized th a t we are, a s se rv a n ts of elk, also g a te k ee p ers to
th e E lkhead, a n d th a t I sh o u ld be w arned—spirit-bodied th ie v es will tiy
u sin g tac tic s to confuse a n d b esm irc h u s to gain access to th e rin g of keys.
W hat h e says is in line w ith w h a t I feel h a s been happening: th a t so m e th in g
is u n d e rm in in g th e d ream of Innisfree. W hen I a sk ed S am son w ho h e ’s
m aking th ese videos for, th o u g h , h e got m ealy-m outhed. A nd I h a d to tell
him , if it’s for som eone you d o n ’t know below th e surface of a p p e a ra n c e , a n d
who you forget after you see th em , th e n d o n ’t give them th e clips, b e c a u se
they a re u sin g th a t to get a t th e E lkhead, like you m entioned yourself. T h en
S am son becam e th e one calling m e p aran o id . P aran o ia h a s n o place o n
Innisfree, I agree w ith him . B u t w h a t u se d to be called p a ra n o ia is now a
m ore th a n p a rtia l tru th , like B order Patrol tak in g DNA sa m p le s from
tow nsfolk a n d ru ra l g ro u p s w ho live n e a r th e pipelines, w h ich is going w ay
too far for E nderbee. S am pling th e copper in o u r veins, I g u e ss you co u ld
say, b u t w ithout drilling rig h ts. O ver-obvious investigators, u s in g th e ir over­
obviousness to m ake u s u n e a sy , sin ce th e aw ard system d o e s n ’t seem to be
working. I am involved in th e bom bing only in th a t I su p p o rt th e b o m b e r’s
cau se, I tell th em —a s in in d u stry sh o u ld ste e r clear from th e re a l
p recio u sn e ss o u t h e re —b u t I am n o t th e bom ber. T ru st is w h a t th is p lac e is
b u ilt on, I m ight add, fo u n d a tio n s stro n g e r th a n m oney, a n d now y o u a re
trying to b re a k a p a rt th e b o n d s th a t hold th e tru s t, th ro u g h try in g to p lo t
th e poetry of th e tow n a n d c o u n try , w hich is how b a d th in g s h a p p e n w ith
co u n ties a n d c o u n tries a n d all th e la n d u n d e r th e su n .
S am so n j u s t says: C 'm on, In k ste r, w h a t you say we w et y o u r noodle
w ith som e corncob bom bs.

63

Memily calls over th e b lack wire fence in to th e grey light of m y day.
The s tra n d s of h e r h a ir playing tag w ith h e r su m m e r moles, a n d h e r d im p led
eyes squirreled aw ay in th e tu n n e ls of h e r s u n h a t. Her h ig h la n d sk in w h ite
a n d vulnerable in th e stre a k s of light th ro u g h p red o m in an t b la c k sh ad o w s.
W hat's sh e u p to, I w onder, in th is la n d sc a p e of d e a th tones.
Inkster, how are you? I keep seeing you p a cin g a ro u n d over th ere .
O kay I g u ess, Memily.
Looks like th a t ra s h you w ere talk in g a b o u t h a s gone aw ay.
Yup ... y u p ... th a t's a good th in g , I su p p o se, b ecau se if it w a s flesh
w asting disease I reckon y o u ’d have it too. I d o n 't u su ally like ta lk in g over
fences, though, you know , Memily.
I like th e old fashioned farm er etiq u ette, Mr. Inkster. You a re e n te rin g
y o u r m asterw ork, ju s t like L eonard C ohen w rites about.
W hile sh e 's saying th is sh e u n d o e s th e wire latch of a gate. We s ta n d
together in a p a tc h of sh a d e, on h e r side.
I c a n 't see w h a t's h a p p en in g anym ore, I say. The science of it e sc a p e s
me. All I c a n do is sing m y second song ... ‘My favorite a n im a l’s w om b h a s
becom e a tom b. W here not life b u t d e a th is b o m in skeletal bloom ...’
She p u ts h e r a rm s a ro u n d m e a n d sq u e ez es m e kindly. S h e w a s th e re
by th e shore in th e gathering cerem ony w h en we released th e elk ch ild in to
th e river c u rre n ts to be tak en away.
I like y o u r song a b o u t loving all th e tim e b e tte r, Jeffery, sh e say s,
h in tin g th a t m o u rn in g h a s r u n its course. B esides, you know it’s y o u r
m asterw ork w hen you c an feel it falling a p a rt, b u t c a n ’t see it, a n d you hav e
to hold on. I know th a t from a rt, n o t science. I’m a welder in d isg u ise,
In k ster, w hen I see you m oving th ro u g h y o u r fields with th e h a y a n d th e
alfalfa, th e elk circle you, you know th a t, th e y c a n tell you a re o n solid
ground. D on’t let bom bs a n d m iscarriag es th ro w y o u too m u c h .
W hat w as I like w hen I first cam e h ere, Memily?
You were like a jitterb u g . Y our p ace h a s slow ed. More am b le a n d
p a u se, n o t poin t a n d click.
She a s k s m e if I w a n t to com e ta lk to h e r w hile she w o rk s o n h e r a r t
dow n a t th e shop.
W hat a re you w orking on now, M emily?
She h a s ch an g ed a little a s I speak, th e sh ad o w s c a tc h a differen t
angle of h e r personality.

64

People of B yzantium m ad e from sc ra p m etal, an d o th e r stu ff from th e
d u m p . It u se d to be th a t we w ere sim ply p lu se s a n d m in u ses, b u t now we
a re strin g s of p lu se s a n d series of m in u se s, so it's h a rd e r to a tta c h , t h a t ’s
w h a t th ese m elted latch e s are, th e m etal la tc h e s th a t hold u s b ack . Like th e
o n es th a t block you a n d D an -th e-M an from ever being friends. O r from m e
m oving on from m y sa d n e s s a t never hav in g a child.
Memily h a m m ers th e face of one of h e r sc u lp tu res w ith th e m allet,
d en tin g in a cheekbone, stra ig h te n in g a m in u s.
I am doing a n o th e r sc u lp tu re a b o u t com plicity too.
H er eyes say h i to m e from u n d e r th e flapping brim.

65

NOT YOUR USUAL SUSPECTS
—20 June 2037—
What happens when a bomb plot targets a
heavy production zone like the area around
the Rockies-Always-the-Rockies? What
happens when the idealistic politics of a
place like Byzantium get challenged by pure
violence?
Paranoia for everyone involved, it
would seem.
The mayor of Enderbee, Timothy K,
who had taken an anti-Gasbro stance until
the most recent recessional dip, resigned af­
ter expressing public disgust with everyone
involved in the conflict. This leaves the
small town of Byzantium without a strong
leader, says the head of the regional district,
Anne Carters.
The temporary incumbent mayor
from the Superconservative party, Sam
Sears, is acting on an emergency political
platform that aims to liquidate Enderbee title
and make it part of Cowberta, says Carters.
The new industry-wealthy of Enderbee,
though they appreciate the lawlessness of
their unceded domain, apparently appreciate
their toys much more, as a recent poll
showed support of the interim mayor's plan
at fifty-four percent.
“The Gasbro high pressure pipeline is
already four-weeks into its accelerated
coast-to-coast construction phase at a pace of
twenty kilometres per day, and the patterns
of the bombings indicate a 'closing noose'
pattern around Enderbee portion o f the pro­
ject," Charters observed. She added that the
pipeline will be completed within 17 months.
Troutsource is now at ground level,
trying to get a sense o f the insanity. Stories
of investigators tailing the everyday normal
people of Byzantium are commonplace. Here

is some of what the incredulous locals had to
say.
From Cheryl Hill, interviewed after
we noticed her cornered by several officers
at Parkwood Mall:
“Well, I’m a cross dresser, right, so
of course they are going to think I'm linked
to the criminal element. To tell you the truth,
I don’t give a damn, they can ask me all the
questions they want— I am all ears, honey.
Mayor Timothy is such a sweet man, the
poor guy is being blamed for not keeping
more of a lid on all the crap. They want to
pin this on freaky radicals, and because they
can see how beautifully freak I am they pay
extra attention to my femme nature.
However, just because the voice sounds
freak, doesn’t mean it is, you dummies. I’ve
been singled out all my life, it's alright, I
have a tough hide anyway, spank away,
babies.”
Peter Bucklet, the owner o f Jeweled
Smithery Hardware store:
“Asking me for name lists of every­
body I’ve sold a bolt to, credit statements
and descriptions of clients. It’s crazy. Really
crazy. My kids can’t sleep because o f the
squad helicopters’ flyovers, not to mention
all the Gasbro traffic in town these days.
Sometimes buying fertilizer is just buying
fertilizer, right. I mean, hello dumbnuts, if
it’s really the green angel investors behind
this, why would they be buying their bomb
ingredients here at the hardware store?”
Troutsource has also gained access to
the records of a “wanted list”. The contents
show a growing list o f possible suspects,
with a number beside each name to represent
the seriousness of the threat.
66

N am e

2

The Carlyle
fam ily

S 3

Cheryl Hill

3-1

S am son
H uckleberry

4

D an A ssange,
AKA “D an-theM an”

5

S tra n g er who
goes by "M ars
Ares", real n am e
unknow n.
U ntraceable.

6

7

Memily A ssange

Jeffery In k ste r

Lead
H is to r y
R adical C h ristia n D ynam ite seized in
2026 from
fam ily know n to
property, no
p o sse ss a n
perm it. Note: all
a rs e n a l of
m onkeyw renching have alibi by
nu m b er.
p a ra p h e rn a lia .
E rratic behavior,
A rrested in
u n s ta b le identity, C ow berta for
siphoning g a s o u t
proxim ity to
co n d u its.
of G asb ro tru c k s .
Several a rr e s ts for
Radical drifter
type, a v a n t-g ard e illegal b re e d in g of
livestock a n d
film, proxim ity to
co n d u its.
su sp ec ted h isto ry
of bestiality .
Previously
E m ails tra c k e d
th ro u g h tr a n s ­
investigated for
provincial servers d a ta leak in g d u rin g
to enviroleak
B orderland
groups.
Reform ation.
Im p erso n a ted a n
officer of B order­
la n d Reform,
p o ten tial con­
nection to h u m a n
program m ing
groups.
Political a rtis t
w ho perv erts
reality. Knowledge
of w elding a n d
co m p ressio n
fittings.
E lk farm er w ith
sad istic
ten d en cies.

N/A P ro b ab ly a
border-drifting infogatherer.

Perceived w ith in
E nderbee a s too
peace-loving to b e a
bom ber, how ever
m ight b e com plicit.
Might b e
know ledge-holder.
Potential in fo rm a n t.

67

Letter sent to the Enderbee Police and The E nderbee Endtimes:

Be/finally warned/, you/ have/ chosen/ unwisely not to honour our
wishey, so now it iy time/ for Gcxsbroto- meetthe/realBone/Crusher.
By the/ttme/you/receive/thiyletter the/ fate/of many livey willbe/at
risk. The/only way you/can/stop thiy event from/escalating'iy by
shutting/ down/ a ll ScyUa/ ridge/ operation IMMEDIATELY ay well ay
SCte/C463 adjacent tothe/headwatery of the/Eraser and/Nechako.
What hay been/so cunningly dealt by Coyote/ Spirit so far iybuta/
fraction/of the/REAL power of SKULL CRUSHER. Ifyoa hesitate/ for a/
MOMENT longer we/ will make/ the/decision/for you/.

68

Yeah, well you know they've called th is “th e b ack to w o rk c e n tu ry ”,
w hich is k ind of n o t w h a t w e're all a b o u t on Innisfree ran c h , a s we prefer
leisure lab o u r of a sort. T hese d a y s w holesalers a re buying c ro p before th e
seed ’s even in th e ground, a n d calves before th ey a re even b o m yet. We all
try o u r h a n d s a t sm all-scale farm ing, b u t th e th in g is the fin a n c ia l ris k i s n ’t
w orth it. You have to in v est in th e fa ste st farm b o ts an d s u p e r co m b in es to
be able to e n su re a yield th a t will en ab le you to m ak e ends m eet, a n d y o u
finance it by signing ag re em e n ts w ith a b u y e r for X a m o u n t of p ro d u c t
predicted on y o u r first year. In ste a d of giving u s boosters, th e C a n ’ta d ia n
governm ent m ade a back-to-w ork regim en, so farm w orkers e n d e d u p
having to ta k e p o sitio n s s u c h a s w aiter a n d traffic patrol officer w h en th e y
got laid off. And th e w e a th e r got so u n reliab le th a t you c a n ’t kn o w for
certain y o u r fu tu re yield. Even th e alm an ac, th a t N o stra d am u s-w o rk of w ise
ru ra l people, is getting it w rong. It ta k e s im ag in atio n to do so m e th in g a little
differently, to find th a t n ich e m ark e t, like velvet a n tler. Or b y fin d in g som e
p la n t th a t h a s m edicinal p ro p erties, a n d p ack ag in g it for th e m a s s m a rk e t
u n d e r a saleable n am e. B u t th e n you are a n eccentric of th e econom y.

69

Now. Now! It's tim e. Except for wind is over sixty clicks southw esterly. Gad dang. H eart goes
boom boom chest rem em ber m an smiling u n d er headache light of saloon after last call.
Press once, twice, en te r code. But no, n o t work. Som ething scrambling th e w ireless relay
encryption. Or dead sensor. Soggy wait in bog killed th e battery. M ust have. Track back.
Can't think. Illusion disappearing. Identity tro m b o n e. Wahoop. Am so m eo n e am som eone.
Bird. Sky. Left margin to right margin right margin to left margin left margin to right margin
right margin to left margin. In th e book of pain. O rphan m em ories once rep ressed from
mythic beginning of artistic rage of Keats' Hyperion. Now forget. Back along pond bank. Back
to m oat. Reach around th e edge again. M ust feel. The feeling of being surveyed from a
satellite. W atched, w orld's eyes on everyone. Pseudo-w elder I am . M anually reverseworking w hat a w elder normally would. A toggle to turn o n e eighth of a ro tatio n. And a
widget to depress halfway. Then a sound. Tearing around th e m etering sh ed 's reinforced
wall. A pre-explosion. Turn run. Run like hell. Smoke consuming. Boom. Vacuum sucking m e
against th e shed th en blowing me forw ard in a w rath of flam e. Insert special effects.

70

O ut k itch en window: a H yperion, a n tle r s tu m p s b an d ag ed , spoo k ed
a ro u n d th e side of th e b a m , in sp e c to r p u rs u in g w ith a th erm o m e ter.
T hose goddam n a n im a l activ ist goons. They have no rig h t. No rig h t, I
say! T hird tim e in twenty-five y e a rs, e a c h tim e th e y get nosier. T h is tim e i t ’s
sporty p erso n w ith a n o -p riso n e rs look, som eone w hose a tte n tio n co u ld
b rin g a vicious p u n ish m e n t to y o u r world, w ho’s got the q u ie t pow er of a
civil se rv an t in charge of th e guillotine, a n d calls herself S a m a n th a S e a rs,
w hich rings som e so rt of stra n g e bell.
S ears finishes te stin g th e e lk 's w ater, doing stuff like m e a su rin g th e
antibiotic levels, exam ining th e elk 's living c o n d itio n s and w h a tn o t. R e tu rn s
to th e farm house.
Jeffery, th is is y o u r th ird offence, th is is se rio u s now. P u lls o u t h e r
b in d er full of ch eck lists a n d form s a n d all th a t.
S h e's com e u p from C a n n ed C ougar, a n d h e r b ran d of ju d g e m e n ta lism
is n o t ap p reciated here. J u s t liste n to her!
Mr. In k ster, elk farm ing is n o t in th e b e st in te re sts of th e fo rests. I've
said it before a n d I will say it again. It's n o t so m eth in g th a t th e PC
governm ent h a s ever liked, a n d if th e re d id n ’t e x ist cross zo n al law s w ith
Cow berta, you c an b e tc h a th e regional d istric t w ould s h u t y ou rig h t dow n
(taps h e r p en on th e pages of h e r a sse ssm e n t). T he a n esth e tic y o u a re
c u rre n tly u sin g for th e velvet a n tle r rem oval is adequate; how ever, y o u will
be required to u p g rad e y o u r to u rn iq u e t sy stem to a hydraulic p re s s to block
blood flow. Overall y o u r elk look ... w e ll... sad . Probably th e p a in in th e ir
tem ples, from saw ing th e ir h o m s all year. If th is p ersists, a n d y o u d o n 't
u p g rad e, it could becom e a m a tte r for th e b u re a u of anim al rig h ts.
I told you a b o u t th e b irth p ro b lem s ... it’s th e gases from all th o se
pipes. J u s t look a t th e h aze over th e ridge. And look here a t m y h a n d s , from
p etting th e elks after th ey ’ve b e en lying a ro u n d n e a r the g as sta c k s.
Mr. Inkster, I've looked in to th e possible correlation b etw een th e
m iscarriages a n d th e e m issio n s a s p e r o u r conversation, a n d also th e
su p p o sed ra sh e s. Again, th e s tu d ie s have fo u n d no possible link. B ad
farm ing p ractice is m ore likely th e re a so n w hy you have se e n a large
incidence of stillbirth. As for ra s h e s , well, th o se look like b e d b u g b ites,
probably b ro u g h t into E n d erb ee by all th e tr a n s ie n ts ... Moving o n now —th e
condition in th e velvet a n tle r b a m ... Not good (p asse s me th e c lip b o ard w ith
th e checklist on it).
As you c an see, th e m ood scale a n d condition ratings all com e o u t
really low.
I sw ing th e b in d er a ro u n d , feeling it sc ra p e ag ain st m y sc ab b y w rists.
G eneral health: 2 / 5 . O verall a n im a l form a n d vigour: 2 / 5 . R e sp o n siv en ess
to approach: 2 .5/ 5 .
71

A nim al d ep ressio n , Mr. In k ste r. N othing sa d d e r th a n w h e n y o u realize
th e o th er c re a tu re s in th e w orld have deep em o tio n s ju s t like u s .
Listen. This is how I live. T his is how m y elk live. You com e in h e re
w ith y o u r official ch ec k lists ... you d o n 't get it. T hey live a good life o u t h ere.
You c a n 't hide th is from y o u rself m u c h longer.
W hat is sh e talk in g a b o u t. Hide w h a t I do every day? F rom m yself?
Oh, a n d one m ore th in g .
I give u p .
You need to ta k e th e new Velvet A ntler Rem oval C ertification
Program .
My d e a r S a m a n th a S ears, oh m y d ear. B u t th e n th e b o h e m ia n
w axw ings th ey croon w ith gravelly voices, a H yperion bugles, m a k e s m e
im agine a u tu m n a l h u e s com e o u t from a p a ste l sp o u t, so u n d -c o n fetti of
lavender, grey, brow n, ice w hite, sw irls, sp irals, tw ists. H eard it d e sc rib e d a s
so u n d in g like flutes blow n h a rd like a h o rn .
D an-the-M an a n d M emily com e strolling u p th e road a fte r d e a r
S a m a n th a h a s d e p a rte d b a c k to th e Anim al D epartm ent.
D on’t worry, b ro th er, D an sa y s to m e, p a ttin g my d e fe ate d s h o u ld e r
w ith h is clubbed h a n d . We a re going to sin k th is com plicity b o a t soon, w e ll
all clean u p o u r a c ts ... We a re all, all of u s com plicit.

72

A ball of flame envelopes th e sum m er green. W ahoop! A ball of flame devours th e progress
of Olympian-loyal w esternkind. W ahoop! Oil gushes from th e torn pipes like w a te r sprayed
from a hose with th e press of a tongue, a black hose, black w ater ov er a doll house, black
tongue tw o packs a day. A cardinal observes from Rome, Cowberta. W histle of bitum enlite
condensing into a to rre n t of superdense liquid dum ped

by high w inds aw ay and dow n

down away black wave. Looming shadow m ade of steam liquid over tu rn e d shoulder. Black
tidal wave. Dollops of burning oil flaming around th e ir ed g es soaring th e smell of a gas tank
w hen nose is stuck right in. W ahoop! W ahoop! H edge-hopper, grasshopper, rabbit ju m p er
away. Crescent shadow of beech tree . Gasbro has fallen. W ahoop. Citadels o f th e barons are
no longer. W ahoop. Every explosion a division and a multiplication. M outh exploding with
charcoal spittle. An um brella of bitum en vavooom s over th e valley. Into th e fo rest into th e
forest. Arm becom es burning scepter.

73

Memily a n d D an -th e-M an hav e c re a te d a can o e poem. A c a n o e th a t
h a s w h at a re a p p a re n tly called v erses carved th ro u g h the side. T he w o rd s n o
d o u b t m ak e th is a leaky vessel. It’s th e “C anoe C alled Com plicity”, M emily
explains, a s she experiences overexposure of h e r a u tu m n a l h air.
The w ords carved th ro u g h th e can o e w ith th e sam e sh a rp -e d g e d lig h t
a s crack s betw een p la n k s of a n o u th o u se , are:
On the long drive in Ford 850
C ursed the oil d ia m o n d s in p a s s in g

Did fo re ster filled w ith eco a n g st
Feeling relieved a fter chopping
H ating d a m s the m ost w h ile
Electric shaving—
Superconservatives, those w h o love nature h ikes
Wooed b y Gasbro darlings in s k y rises
Who've b een doing about it
W hat global competition p e rm its
The C lass-C onscious Critic
Who drives a Porsche
Spoil them but not this, sir leader w ho g u tte d M edicare
Who grew u p on Medicare, sin g s B ea tle's WLHMF, bu t is tough on pot.
M ust be balanced w ith sin k ers
W hat is w eig h ted w rong
S in k a s d eep a s d a r k n e s s can
Sinking a s d eep a s d a rk n e s s can
M ay this Canoe o f Complicity go
So w e can get b a c k on course again

The canoe is su p p o rte d on two blocks, d rip p in g biodegradable p a in t
from cottonw ood walls. S u n lig h t p a s s e s th ro u g h letters of d o u b t a n d irony.
W hat’s th e p o in t of th is w hole com plicity th in g , I a sk D an -th e-M an .
He ju s t looks a t me.
C an’t you see th e poem h e re is a b o u t you? h e says, in a n e x ag g erated
baritone. W hen we la u n c h o u r vessel, people like y o u are going to s in k it,
Mr. Inkster.
Since w hen did D an -th e-M an get s u c h a h a te on for m e? O r is it m a n
love w ith ru ste d hinges j u s t g ratin g a g a in st th e shoulder.

74

Sound w hat th e whack, sound w h at th e clack, seem s to happen smack. T ear off w elding
disguise with one free arm. Look over shoulder, panting. Som e mauve sea im age, trilobites
of sparks. Over th e Enderbee valley from th e m etal stem of th e twin pipeline tw isted into
venom array. Then now th e real blast, bom b tw o th re e four five in ta n d e m - geysers of
liquid spurting hundred of leagues high, arrow s o f flaming gunk falling o v er Byzantium,
globular torpedoes. Holy shit. W as supposed to be a warning. Just o n e seg m en t. Oh my gad.
Oh my gad. Night bird calls. Swim of swallow, sea sky. Right margin to left margin. Forget.
Was supposed to be one section a t a tim e. Manic excitem ent overw helm s, th e laughter of
th e com pletion, th e having g o tten it done, th e wicked excellence, th e exhilaration. Hopping
bouncing running; cackling and spitting blood so vital. Trip. Reach to grab. Som ething to
stabilize. Swing of an arm miss of th e targ et. Fall to get up and keep running up bank. Can't.
Can't push, arm reaching through th e earth , touches hair touches hair th a t is laughter. A
gauntlet grabs hold of my hand in som e underground salute. No left arm no m ore. Dark
ages. Absence. W here? Can't lift. Arm of fire. Ghost pressure on chest. A ttem p t to b reath e.
Breath. On knees. Prostrate. Hanging hair from limbs above. Burning. Tarred-in lungs.
Stumbling farther. Smoked legs. Smoking body. Steaming body. Stumble through rosy m oon
shadows. Known rock form ations - find th em , hide. Hunker. Pass out. N eed to just. Find a
deeper. Shadow. In which. To energize. Plump rain drop snuffs candle. Puff of sm oke from
rock ring charcoals. Asleep.

75

I've b een read in g poem s, old slim bo o k s th a t folks left 'ro u n d Inn isfree.
T hinking a poem is like th e first trip to B yzantium all over ag ain , it feels like
th a t each tim e.
C ut. Clear. C lear C u tte d C u tte r C u rt C u lt C orpse C lean. Cleave.
E rosion on th e b a n k s of h isto ry c u tb a c k c u tu p cu tlery c u tth ro a t. C lear sky,
c lear my h a n d s. One finger a leaf; on e finger a pinecone; one finger to to u c h
th e cold fluid on th is b ra n c h . S ta n d u p on a ro ttin g log a m id st th e
th o u s a n d s of stalk s, tu b e r gone a stra l, lit fish in cosm ic stre a m , faces of
som e a b se n t fam ily o v errun w ith w ater, to b e tte r see above th e g reen s,
w hich is a take-off strip o u t of lim b bow s to th e forked fate p a th s . E lk h ead .
T here in th e glitter of b ab y green s I w itn ess th e sw im m ing elk, doing th e
sh o u ld er craw l th ro u g h th e leaves u n d e r th e sco rch ed icicle ra y s of th e su n .
Playing or ru n n in g from m e; som etim es I c a n 't tell. This c o m e r of th e ra n c h
is w here wild ones leap in a n d over a n d o u t a n d th ro u g h a n d m ix 'n m a te
w ith th e farm ed ones probably.
W hen elk p re s e n t stra ig h t o n crag, s e t a g a in st the m ilky w ay, th e
a n c ie n t bugle c o n ta in s a ro seh ip s a u c in e ss a n d hig h -p itch ed p u rp le
m oosiness. W hen th e dom estic dog how ls, it does so th ro u g h th e m im e of
wolf lips. E lkhead is co n ta in e d in th a t bugle j u s t like W olfhead is in th e
howl. W hen it bugles th a t m u sic, it su m m o n s u p th e ir a n c e sto rs, th e g ia n t
elk, w ho are in fact m etallic sc u lp tu re s m ad e of m y th —sp ecim en s from
M emily's y a rd art.
A g reat shot, like in a T arkovsky v isu a l epic. I w ant to film th e s e sh o ts
leading u p to th e canoe scenes, In k ste r. A slow s h o t of you d isa p p e a rin g .
You b e tte r n o t be m ak in g th e movie f o r ____
For w ho?
F o r _____
No, n o t for.

76

Yes indeed, a rts y boy h a s got a n u n h o ly glow about h im , like a
S p a rta n ... shaved h is h a ir in th o se sh o rt ridges along the te m p le s a n d jaw ,
like a N orth A m erican h y e n a w ho's b een to th e LA b a rb ersh o p , m ak in g a
scene d u rin g th e h u m b le elk m e a t fe a sts a n d ap p le cider of S u n d a y evening.
Kids w orking th e old c a sh re g iste rs o n old schoolroom d e sk s betw een p lu m
tre e s (part of th e to u r is getting involved in all a sp e c ts of th e ra n c h a n d
selling cider a n d th e like) ... th e ir fa th e r b e lts ou t, ram ped u p by d a n d e lio n
w ine, belly-laughing, h u rra h in g : Look a t a rts y boy’s big eyes a n d velvet
a n tle r hair, like h e 's tu rn in g in to a n elk, h a w haw . Sam son thro w in g a
h a n d fu l of h a y a t D an-the-M an, g ets som e on M emily and M iss P rim ro se
from th e b iso n estate. T h ere’s S a m so n now juggling eggs like th e y w ere o u r
h e ad s, o u r n o g g in -en cap su lated fates. W e’re all sta rtin g to look k in d a like
elk, I agree, feeling som ehow d ra w n into c u rre n ts of resistan ce. We'll do
so m ething to stop th em from p u ttin g th e pipe th ro u g h T ipping P oint River!
To expect m e n o t to be sm a rt, a s a farm er, w ould b e a stereotype, w ould it
not? To expect m e n o t to defend m y la n d w ould a s well. It's n o t like I h av e a
w ebbed nose w ith veins th a t sp e a k of c ig arettes a n d steak, o r p u rp le w orm y
blockages. It's no t a s th o u g h I hav e a lu m p on m y cheek th a t looks like a tit.
You are tu rn in g into som e g h astly pio n eer, you say ? Claim ing I s p e a k in
"done goods" a n d "sum p'ns" a n d "get a t ‘ers". Well, o n days off a t th e b a m
d an ces, I d re ss in m y b e s t d u d s like th e good old days, you'll see.

77

To a n o th e r lo st M nem osyne a n d th e m isery of being n o t q u ite h ere.
O ne day th e elkclockm aker sn a tc h e d you, took you into th e a re a s n o t
m apped. The p a s t is like a glacier, calf m u s t be in sid e som ew here ta p p in g
th e arctic g lass w ith h e r te a c u p hooves. C a n n o t give up m y stery —m y stery
along th e c ra n b e rry p a th s on th e w ay th ro u g h th e b u sh , n o t n e c e ssa rily j u s t
a t th e end. The fo rest's h u r t th ro b s som etim es, d o e sn ’t it? W hy do people
h u rt? T h at is w h a t he a sk e d u n d e rn e a th th e fir tree. U nder th e fir tree, h e
w ondered w hy n a tu re c re a te d pain. C oughing h a y b its, s u n b u rn e d eyelids
to u ch ed w ith d u s ty fingers, m oles on m y b a c k ru b b in g a g a in st th e sa p p y
scales of th e tree. D idn’t I u s e d to be a typical farm e r with a stro n g wife a n d
rosy-cheeked child, d id n ’t I? D idn't I u s e d to, before that, live in a wet,
readerly city som ew here in S q u a sh in g to n ? Tim es a re stran g e in th e s e
regions of th e ru ra l fu tu re, a n d I d o n ’t blam e th em for leaving a p lace of
dying b eauty. D rones com e overhead looking for b o rd e r-b re a c h e rs, b u t
u n d e rn e a th th e fir tree th ey c a n 't see. U n d er th e fir tree h e a s k s w hy o h w hy
did you create p ain , let m e know a t le a st th a t one p a rt, or a t le a s t let m e
th a n k you for th e n u m b n e s s th a t com es w hen it g e ts too b a d , a t le a s t th e re
is th at.
And M nem osyne XVII a b o rte d th ree calves in a row.
And for every ab o rtio n a n o th e r bom b w ent off.
Held e ac h bloody p ro d u ce in m y a rm s, c a st them in to th e stre a m s
w here th e tro u t gulped th em u p . I d o n 't like th e m indless m o u th in g s of th e
fish, they sp e ak of som e terrible w a n to n n e ss.
W hen you m ed itate on th e im age of th e crystalline lit elk, th e c ry sta l
E lkhead flickering w ith light—w h en you m ed itate on the s o u n d of hooves in
woods. T h at is th e p ractice h e sta rte d so long w ays ago, u n d e rn e a th th e fir
tree. Now, u n d e r th e fir tree, th e sid es of h is h ead ache, a n d h e r u b s th e m in
confusion, w ondering if h e b u m p ed h is h e a d in th e m iddle of th e nig h t.

78

Heli-drone blades make pudding of th e air above trees, stark w ater dripping off canopy,
falling w ater on to w eakness, num bness, trem bling. W hirlpool. Fall into crotch of w estern
maple. On back, surrounded by sw ord ferns and Black-eyed Susans. Huge d rops o f dew . A
grasshopper sipping a t spherical spring. Plush p etals of m oist flower sun juices through
straw s through m ouths of w atery light b etw een tre e to p s. Reach for som e of th e dew with
invisible finger. No arm. Arm charred stum p. Scream ing weakness. So w eak. Strength
suddenly shoots. Curl up like to o th p aste. Upward and onw ard said g randfather, feath er
moss, terrace of rock, through a stream , becom es a creek; dunk noggin, splash, drink.
Seared skin com es off in w ater, floats like heel flaps.

79

Life is getting too com plicated for th e E n d erb ee we love a n d th e
Innisfree th a t we know, a n d it’s giving m e h e a d a c h e s. I sh a ll leave
everything to th e ra n c h h a n d s for th e day a n d re tu rn to th e beginning,
w hich is n ’t too m u ch to leave o r too far to go, for elk and ra n c h h a n d s look
after them selves p retty good, a n d th e beginning is only on th e o th e r edge of
B yzantium . I ta k e th e p a th s th a t m u k lu k s first stom ped dow n, feeling t h a t
clo seness th ro u g h th o se footfalls to th e trad itio n of anim al a n d th e b o n d of
th e rib. C hanges m y view of B yzantium com ing in from th e o th e r d irec tio n to
th e highw ay by th e new prison, th e w ay I first cam e here w ith th e c a ttle
trailer full of m y elks, how m an y y e a rs ago. T h ro u g h th a t village archw ay ,
“th e gatew ay to th e su p rem e n o rth ”—so it sta te s. T he s ta tu e of th e ch ie f a n d
of th e rainbow salm on a n d of th e tra in , also of th e b a m w ith th e b la c k s c a rs
from fire a n d age: all of it re n te d now in th e sidew ays pour of fo u r o ’clock
su n light. Over there, th a t is th e hotel—th e w hite one with th e ta ll sig n a n d
th e tropical them e done u p w ith real p a lm s a n d w aterslide—I sta y ed in w h e n
I first arrived a t B yzantium . Recall how I p a rk e d th e elk tra ile r th e re b e sid e
th e gas p u m p a n d h o rse p o sts. H ad th e four legged troop o n sed ativ es to
keep them from going re in d e er on m e, tired-hoofed they w ere from th e
jo u rn ey u p from S q u ash in g to n .
Neon c o n to u rs of ju k e b o x g lass case. Finger sta in s above choices. T he
in te rn atio n al city robbed m e of a n y personality. W hy I w as on th e m ove? I
m ean to th e country. Rem em ber.
Going dow n into th is old pio n eer b a r th a t is now b o ard ed u p ... I
rem em ber th e p erso n inside w ho w as doing th e perform ance, th e on e w ho
took th e whole tow n u n d e r h is dow ny w ing a n d h a d u s do a n d sa y th o se
th in g s ...
S n ap p ed h is fingers, m ad e th o se so u n d s, sa id deeper a n d d e ep e r in to
blissful relaxation you a re falling. The velvet a n tle rs in the s h a p e of h u m a n s
are falling tow ards th e e a rth . Left m arg in to rig h t m argin rig h t m arg in to left
m argin.

80

Muffled clunk duffled w eaponry. M oon zooming. Gasbro militia hunting th e goat. Hold so
still, lamb, until th e lion's gaze falls into th e bee-ringing flowers. I am th e baby d e e r in th e
innocent shadows. Jaws, lantern eyes, wanging pain in disappeared arm . Skies are parting to
deserted shore. Galilee, Galilee, nam e w ithout substance. Orlando, O rlando. W estm inster.
W here th e final chim e strikes th e rocks th e river shall open. Ants do six-step d ance on th e
side of my belly, spiders crouch on my w arm th, a coyote snout sniffing th ro u g h th e bush,
cold mucus in my lobed satellite. Crusade of w hite blood cells. Preaches tw iste d colon w e
cam e from worms. This nook in th e tre e s so relaxing, so nice. Staring. N eed to keep w arm .
The w arm th of th e sun making mist on th e greens. With o n e good arm te n d e r th e limbs of a
balsam. Chew bark. Sense carcass nearby. Smells o f lice and museum s, hair and dust, closet
and buffalo. One hand at side, role over on good side, g et up. Press th e co n tact lichen to let
th e Bone Healer know you are coming.

81

W hen you hear th e sn a p , th e perform er, d re s se d in grey ja n ito r g e ar
w a s saying w ith key rin g on h ip th a t c h im ed in th e night, w ho w a s u s in g a
m etal staff like a th ird leg to m ove a ro u n d th e barroom . I w a s still c o n scio u s,
knew it w as to a n o th e r of th e p a rtic ip a n ts th a t h e w a s directing h is pow ers.
B u t to w hom ?
W hen you hear th e snap, th e p e rso n yo u love m ost in th e room, w h o yo u
fin d m ost attractive, go u p a n d let th em know . You. Are. In. Love. With. Them .
F irst sn a p , a n d th e p a rtic ip a n t's n e ck w ent lim p. After a p a u s e t h a t
co n ta in e d th e so u n d of th e light b u lb w hining, th e second s n a p cam e, a n d
th e p a rtic ip a n t’s sh o u ld er seem ed to stra ig h te n a le rt, and h e lifted h is h e a d
again, th o u g h w ith eyes still slit, rising, floated u p to som eone se a te d a t o n e
of th e tables. W as it Memily h e a p p ro a ch e d a n d se ren a d ed ? In m y m em o ry it
w as Memily. T hen th a t p a rtic ip a n t, ta n h a t guy, m u s t have b e e n D a n -th e M an? I c a n 't see into th e b a c k of th e b arro o m b e c a u se of th e th ic k pipe
sm oke, b u t I c an h e a r th e v o lu n te er’s p ro p o sal to th e person b a c k th e re , to
Memily, m u s t be. W hoever to whoever: I love you like the w aterfall d o e s th e
fall. T h a t's w h a t w as said b a c k th ere, love w o rd s of all sorts, a n d t h a t ’s
w here th e "lovin all d a time" song got inspired. T h en M ars A res tu rn e d
a n o th e r key in th e hovering air, telling a seco n d volunteer to go o u t b a c k th e
p u b a n d pick a blade of g rass. W hen th e su b je c t did this, leaving d ream ily
a n d re tu rn in g w ith a b lad e th a t fit well betw een h e r th u m b s, th e h y p n o tis t
a sk ed h e r w h a t sh e h a d lea rn ed from it. I a m going to p la y in a b lade o f
g ra ss band, said th e volunteer. The real blue joint grass.
The. Third. V olunteer. H ad to light a ch erry bom b in a j a r in th e y a rd
o u t b a ck th e bar.
And th en , w h a t h a p p e n e d n ext?
T hen th e singing of th e b ird in th e shadow s. T he E lkhead above th e
h e a rth , shifting.

82

Roadrunner escapes th e bom b. You are th e bom b. You really dropped a bom b. F-bombs
after my chickens targ eted by eagle. Second b afte r m. Collateral dam age o f th a t final silent
letter pronounced with aplom b. A sp h ere with a wick. M ake a statem en t. Set an exam ple.
Systematic. Forward. Onward. Through. Each m om ent attach e s to th e next in a chain. Every
day to day season to each season life to life. Until rupture. Non-arm phases from n um bness
to fire to pain again. To pain. Cain. Pain is a ruby guider. Hider. Brother tow n. Not enough
moss blanket to pull around. Reaching m onkey hands into th e wrenches. Swinging from th e
gears of th e stars with m onkey w rench arm s. The sound of th e bird induces. The sound of
th e plane overhead, and of th e helicopter. Left margin to right margin right margin to left
margin.
Asleep in a cavity of loam poetry.

83

It's th e Multicultural Green Thum b Urban Appreciation parade. E v e n th o u g h
everything's in disarray w ith m edia a n d law, th e p a ra d e m u s t go on. On old
fa rm m achines, the p eople o f B y za n tiu m roll over th e streets, p a s t th e huge
sta tu e o f the fis h e r people a n d th e lum berjacks. Practically everyo n e in to w n
g ets on a flo a t o f so m e sort. The m ountains in th e background are p ictu re
po stcard perfect. The bom ber h a s b een silent fo r m onths, a n d th e to w n h a s
m oved on to cheerier agendas.

W aiting for th e Bone. Healer. Pantheon N orthw est. A ware of th e ineffable

open

bracket/close bracket, nothing in-betw een, n o t even an "it", w hose n am e can n o t be spoken,
w hose presence can be only referred to with allusive gesturing at th e unlikeliest tim es. () is
not certain of th e nature of () own existence. An ex patriate in North Pole, M alaska, () is one
part sugar maple, tw o parts beaver, has nut-brow n micro brew running th ro u g h () veins,
w ears a crown of brush on () head, and is also much like a m oose-hum an. W hat a
loudm outh () is, you can h ear () expostulate, () argum ents forming as in terp retab le rays of
light. () vocal cords are m ade from aurora borealis, so rungs of light flare pow erful up th e re
because () is booming o u t in-sights. (); no one ev er th o u g h t () was for real. They figured ()
was b u t a skew ered am algam of stereotypic national symbols. () escap ed th e se criticisms,
and th e interests th a t would have () h unted and destroyed. And () has an an sw er to th e
question of Can'tadian myth.

O f course H uckleberry's in th e parade, doing his organic egg juggling act, on a
unicycle no less. E ach egg p a in te d a different colour, looping th e s e eggs,
cross-eyed fro m concentrating so hard, eggs w hich are su p p o sed to rep resen t
th e different p o in ts o f view o f th e universe. H is sm all, acrobatic body, ca n flip
through centuries. H e lea ves th e p a ra d e early to go p ic k up m ore eggs a fte r a
couple Jum bles.

84

BOMBS ARE NOT METAPHORS: SAM SEARS
— 1 July 2037—
The environmental group Anti-Everything
has risen up to decry Gasbro’s business-asusual plan to continue construction of Pipe
Nexus 3, saying the 2030 Workers Safety
Act calls for insurable worker safety in ex­
traordinary threat scenarios. Increasing the
anti-Pipe Nexus 3 heat is people speaking up
for the bombers in solidarity.
"The bombings speak for the 85 per
cent of West Western Can'tadians unwilling
to accept another large industrial project in
some of the last remaining pristine rainforest
and salmon rivers of the planet. The 'One
Ecosystem' theory introduced by David Su­
zuki Junior speaks to the cumulative benefit
that large untouched wild zones contribute to
the global biosphere."
Gravy to Overthrow the Cheese
Curds has claimed mock responsibility for
the bombings on their website, posting that
they are proud to have put an end to Gasbro
production, if but for one day.
GOCC is notorious for falsely admit­
ting to crimes. When asked why they chose a
humorous name for their dead-serious plat­
form, and why they make public fools of
themselves, the representative of GOCC
stated they just want to show off "an exam­
ple par excellence" of what they call "Come
On! You! Nism". Their mandate and politi­
cal platform is in fact to alter, very seriously,
the substance o f Can'tada through belly
laughter, yuk yuk yoga, Guitar Hero therapy,
and 40s dress-up mountain climbing tours.
Gravy to Overthrow the Cheese Curds also
aims to “attempt putting ‘an end to the end’
of the age o f irony."
Interim mayor of Endeibee, Sam
Sears, is quoted by GOCC today as crying
out: "These bombings are not some kind of

metaphor!" Which, as the writers note, was
an ironic statement considering the prosepoem feed that is underway through the
Troutsource portal.
Troutsource is one o f the only news
blogs with a staff capable of tracking the
movers and shakers within the increasingly
virtual and confusing world. Like us, baby.
Like us and support us using the pay feature
at the top.
GOCC website link'.
Listen, Peter M, as we all know, the gunk tar
sands are very much an economically essen­
tial cesspool. That is why our party has taken
upon itself to provide all citizens the sanitary
measures necessary to keep the idea o f our
nation clean. Listen, Peter, there will always
be people who are going to oppose these
large projects which admittedly have signifi­
cant impacts on the environment. This gov­
ernment, though, Peter, is doing everything
in its power, Peter, to reduce these impacts,
Peter, and ensure industry can benefit all
Can'tadians. Recent socialist media postings
o f The Minister of Defense shaking hands
with a rapist-murderer Commander-Sergeant from the Can'tadian Air Force is bad
media practice. So is focusing on our ten­
dency to joke about sadomasochism in public
address. Peter Mansbridge, that you, a CBC
veteran, are still alive to witness my
Parlepasliament's record-length term in of­
fice, is a testament to I don't know what,
maybe cryogenics. Sure, you may still smell
the reek coming in through the crack around
the door. We may, every one o f us in this
room, be aware o f the same overflowing toi­
let down the hall that has persisted fo r
decades. But rest assured that my Party, with
85

our deodorant, with our clean active syntax,
with our firm, proud smiles, provides the best
smell retardants to cover up the stench and
plunge the superpower movement forward,
to see that this necessary cesspool rises,
Peter M, you Chez Guevara o f liberal news.
You love a good barbecue with your family
on the lake. You must, Peter, adore being
surrounded by the grasses, the mountains,
the birds, while you scrub the grill fo r
another batch o f shish kabobs. These natural
beauties sustain a certain kind o f wealth,
Peter, no doubt about it. Think o f it as wealth
B, the god-given endowment. Now look up
from the grass and dragonflies, notice the
computers and the cars. This is also a kind o f
wealth, Peter, call it wealth A, human

wealth. I t’s the money we generate from
wealth A that provides us with the ability to
sustain wealth B. Without the large screen
TVs, we would have no beaver sanctuary,
Peter. Let us not forget the human, Peter.
The amount o f tax revenue generated by oil
diamonds is nothing less than extensively
Homo sapien. Listen, Peter, we don’t have
the benefit o f celebrities on our side pushing
our cause like the environmentalist lobby.
Biased media like Troutsource, funded as
they are by environmental multinationals,
should be read with a huge grain o f salt.
Listen, Peter, we know you like handcuffs ...
listen, Peter, here, I ’ll bend over fo r you,
now stick your nose in my bum and inhale.
Clean like I told you, eh?

There's Cheryl Hill d re ss e d in a bear outfit n ext to m ayor Tim othy, w a vin g a
fla g b y the sa m e pole, fo rced to touch hips, on the turret o f a h u g e m ining
m achine w hich stra d d les th e entire street, so the o d d onlooker h a s to ste p
back into doorw ays a n d dip around th e sid e s o f a store. Their b a n n e r sa y s :
"B yza ntium -A lw ays-B yzantium ."

86

W rist of good arm bubbling. W hat? A band. W hat? From th e parade. For participants.
M elted onto skin. Parade. Charade. Doe's eyes com e o u t of bush blades, m assive-eyed
concern. Awake again. Spirit God passed onw ard. M e sick animal bedded dow n for final nap
under funereal leafage. Doe licking my forehead. Indicating to me I m u st g e t up. They are
coming this way. Four-legged friends arrive with a way forw ard. W hat end. The hooves. A
hoofed friend. The hoofed friend's lick w akens m e again. The god o f th e place b etw een
w ood and field. M otor sound o u t of truck context. Down side of cliff, a n o th e r anim al path,
slip, m aybe to death, scrape back. Stuck in clump o f trees on ledge th a t's singing a no rth ern
m elody across th e lips of a cold flute with Enderbee landscape visible in valley.

Bone Healer, will you help me
If your problem is bone-related
My cartilage aches
Then you m ust e a t catfish
And you have som e
Yes, here, e a t this catfish
Thank you
With som e salt of th e elk's brow
Thank you
It has been cooking for you for centuries
Thank you.
You mind-swapped.
Really?
It happens
How?
Though poetry
Sounds bad
It can get you into trouble
I am in trouble
Yes you are
Will you tell m e w ho done it?
You m ean w ho you are?
I guess so, eh.

87

Insidious insights. Bone Healer grabs my hand and bites and bites and b ites th e se p a tte rn s
onto my skin. Smoke and steam . See everything ab o u t h er th a t is him and it and w e she
feeds me th e him th e it th e we drink. Why m ust any story b e an ordeal? Ideal ordeal. My
face hangs in an animal grin, a forw ard concentration, my jaw and to n g u e so heavy. A onearm ed journey
Through th e muskeg
Through th e swamp
Around th e lake
Between tw o rivers
Over a m ountain pass
You oiled th e entire tow n, bravo. Som eone lit a flam e and th e whole tow n w en t up. You
caused Armageddon on a m iniature scale. How do you feel ab o u t th a t? It's a Pompeii dow n
there.

D an-the-M an a n d Memily a re p o rtag in g th e ir C anoe of Com plicity over th e ir
h e a d s like Mr. a n d Mrs. C anoe H ead, o r som ething, w earing th e so lem n
sm iles of a r t popes. H eading som ew here w ith th a t sig n a tu re c an o e to la u n c h
in to th e w ater, following th e p a ra d e dow n Y eats street.

88

PIPENEXUS CALLED WORST DISASTER SINCE SEA SWELL
— 28 July 2037—
The scene in Byzantium today will stand as FLQ crisis.
Experts say the cleanup of this 10
the defining image of disaster of the 2030s,
Andrew Coppemickle opined in a morning million barrel spill is all but impossible, and
Gasbro executive Chase Beefrude is advising
blog post.
Coppemickle's book, X Marks the that the Disaster Board condemn the valley.
"The thickness o f the spill makes the
Spot (2027), surveyed pivotal mega calami­
cleaning
task profoundly difficult," said Tex
ties through time. On top of the Chernobyl
disaster in the 1980s, the Rwanda genocide Mason of the Cleanup Board.
CEO Beefrude was unavailable for
in the 1990s, 911 in the 2000s, the Bread
Basket Bust of the 2010s, the Mass Seas comment, and reports from The Enderbee
Swell o f the 2020s, Coppemickle has added Endtimes has him quoted as stating that high
what he calls the Black Vesuvius Rupture of pressure pipeline technology will be "reeval­
uated" in the coming weeks and months, and
2037.
The disaster is unfathomable in its that "It appears we have a problem here. Pipe
sadness (See the Troutstream link at the Nexus 3 was designed to be bombproof."
bottom for images), with hundreds of By- The lynching o f the engineer who designed it
zantiumites possibly oiled or burned alive. is underway, as people have oil-balled his
The Can'tadian government has invoked the home in USmonton already (see Podview).
War Measures Act for the first time since the

89

Now th e bone healer is pushing th e fiery fist of M ars Ares back into th e fissure.
Stealing th e hypnosis back again, now doing it in reverse.
(a single bleating of th e elk)
(language telluric)
every w ord is bom b
said is exploding
every w ord is a bom b
to g e th er dam aging
ten tintinnabom bulations
said to g eth er
five tintinnabom ublations
said to g eth er
tw o tintinnabom bulations
detonating to g e th er

Apple Pie and
Cream Soda—
say
hello
and so does
B utter
(from u nder th e lid)
After bedtim e snack, bedded, a big book on chest
th e weight on your ribs m akes breathing fatiguing
reading th e w ords m akes your lids heavy
th e book contains drelkam jars of pain
eyes follow th e words, eye sew n to margin
from left margin to right margin, right margin
to left margin, left margin to right margin, right margin
to left margin, left margin to right margin, right margin
to left margin, and so on, and so on, eye sew n to margin
90

•VHAT HURT DIDN’T IT. THAT HURT THAT HURT THAT
IT HURT IT URTS IT RTS IT UR IT URT IT URTS IT U IT IS T U IT I Tl I IT IT IT IT IT IT IT IS 1111

Now let go of th e arm of Ares, and grab th e wing of th e reaching owl
right margin to left margin, left margin
to right margin, right margin to left margin, left margin
to right margin, right margin to left margin, left margin
to left margin to left margin

Move now? Yes, can move now. Back outside tunnel, back looking dow n tow ards
Byzantium. Slide of black oil dow n th e hill. Sliding dow n th e oil into Byzantium. Only
coldness from arm stum p. Out of th e cave of th e Bone Healer. Congealed bitum en up to
knees. Slimy viscosity. Pain gone. M em ory back. Cannot believe. I have no ID, I d o n 't exist.
Should have listened to Inkster, w arning o f M ars Ares with his pendulum. Like D arth Vader,
or th e Evil Circus Leader from th e show Dustbowl, th e Kurtz character o r G eorge's boss in
Seinfeld, th e anthropom orphism of th e unknown. A n atu re which tem ps us to self-destruct.
It's th e sam e person in all th e minds of th e w riters, th e invisible ch ara cter of plot, right
Inkster?

91

Then there's the Carlyles, th e ragtag bunch o f them . They’re all bla stin g fro m
th e built-in so u n d s y s te m s on their vehicles locally fa m o u s country songs.
Scooting around through th e p a ra d e on M om m y race car a n d D a d d y hum m er,
dirt bike Son a n d D aughter big rig.

Am sliding down oil gush like a slippy slide Armageddon game flames here and there
floating on the oil slick as t-lights. Fall and roll and slink paddle down the sludge hill faster
with only one arm resisting the spin of body. Cellphone store hit hard by deluge. Hand-held
gadgets little surfboards floating desks people staggering through the streets in robes of
goopy petroleum. Off City Hall hang columns of oil stiffened into stalactites. There are arms
and legs sticking out of it and necks as though emerging from thick coffee, like children
made of chocolate. Hockey stick made of frozen bitumen. A pile of people stacked in a
many-limbed bitumen soak pile like turtle. Mayor Timothy bitumen statue of congress of
someone crawling in the direction of Gasbro headquarters. Expression recalls Terry Fox in
final stretch. One arm down. One up. Stiffened into some sort of patriotic salute. Eyes plush
with tears of gas. A pharaoh of some small land. He who had moved around town, so
omnipresent, he who had shaken all the townsfolk’s hands by the hotdog stand, whose
speeches by the podium pandered to the taxpayer and the evader, who had repeated the same
speeches at different events, but who remembered everyone’s nickname. The real hypnotist.
Oiled just like that. Oh god. Emergency trucks. Cross. Red Cross. Whole Northwest on a
cross. Sick forest. Sickness in the stressed tree system. Empty forests after black magic
beetles. Stumble. But this is it. The turning point. The tipping point. The point of no return.
Wading through the oil. The bitumen, so heavy, and hardened, coated things, bronze, a
blackened bronze. The rescue team, webbed people pulling me out of oil, on a stretcher.
Wiping me down with huge rags that smell like paint thinner. A box truck full of the oiled
townsfolk, flopping around like pelicans, to higher safe zone. The medics figure my arm was
just blown off in the blasts here in town. Tumult of the myths seems over. Nothing but the
oil-soaked aftermath. Taking me away. Someone always taken away. On a truck over to the
hospital somewhere. Everything. Nothing. Everything. Never access this valley or the ranch
again. Slabbed over thing. These are the poems I told Inkster.

A bomb w en t o ff near C harybdis ridge th e d a y o f th e MGTUA p a ra d e . The fir s t
detonation to actually p u n ctu re a line, apparently killing a f e w rodents. M ea n s
nobody a t the p a ra d e did th e bombing. So m uch fo r ratting out a lover a n d
getting a n aw ard. A n u n derw helm ing explosion it w a s.

92

HISTORICAL NEWS & NEWS FROM THE IMAGINATION
—Derrida Bloom's final poetic Troutsource essay about the prose poem progression—
Action prose poems were footsteps from Can ’tada it had become a train fu ll o f set­
Greece to Northwestism. From the shores at tlers; then it was a Haida sea vessel; a canoe
the bottom o f Mount Olympus, the belittled guided with J-stroke, old ways faded from
creative Titans and the escaped muses sailed the paddlers’ hands. It was a steam engine.
away o-way from the explosions o f Greek Then a gunpowder keg rolled too close to the
Fire that rocked the Helicon. Roaring down coal furnace; somewhere near the island o f
the side o f the mountain. Aeneas was on the Lilbum the ship with the ancients and the
boat fo r a time; Quetzalcoatl was on the microbial muses was hit with an accidental
boat; fo r a moment or two, it was the Ship o f detonation. Fragments o f the living and in­
Fools; in another incarnation, two o f each animate contents o f the vessel got washed
species were said to be on that boat; the boat down through the currents, some muses were
is named Pequot; the Ghost; or it divides in lost and some gods escaped to shore. Godthree and becomes the Nina, the Pinta, and relations melted into animal-relations; lov­
the Santa Maria. But then it became the ers in the myth became scattered fawns,
ivory-hulled vessel o f the Titans, then cedar footprints the shape o f divided hearts in the
dugout coated in mist and sleet. The boat a bright mud. A decomposing filmstrip, even
topology o f myth. The map a surreal array o f the poems fallout from some sort o f melt­
sections o f absence and native talent. By the down at the core o f words.
time the boat arrived in the Northwest o f

93

Once you free y o u r elk, you will be a hero. Left m argin to rig h t m arg in .
Free m y elk? Left m argin to rig h t m argin. I have no id e a w h a t
h a p p en e d to you, S am son. R ight m arg in to left m argin.
Up u n til now, you've b een a ra th e r w eak c h a ra c te r in th e sto ry of o n e
of th e p ro teste rs, right m argin. A k in d of sitte r o n th e fence ty p e of guy, left
m argin, b u t by settin g y o u r elk free, rig h t m argin, by doing th e big th in g , left
m argin, you becom e a n active c h a ra c te r, rig h t m arg in to left m arg in .
O?
Yes. I am doing a video p am p h let. A video to help p ro te c t on e of th e
rivers. To p ro tect Lethe ... from light pollution.
O?
Yes sir, each egg is a p erspective. E ac h egg p ainted a d ifferen t colour,
a cascad e betw een m y b lu rre d p alm s, e a c h egg a speckled b o m b o p en in g u p
a p oint of view from th e lan d h a n d .
S am so n a n d I w alk to th e b a c k of Innisfree, a n d we g et to w ork c u ttin g
o pen th e fence.
W h at’s th a t duffle b ag you got th ere. Left m argin to rig h t m arg in .
Bone H ealer gave it to m e. R ight m arg in to left m argin.
B one H ealer? You m ea n S kull C rusher!
(Twittering of a th ru sh )

94

IDYLLIC RANCH BREEDING GROUND FOR TERROR
— 21 August 2037—
An elk farmer named Jeffery Inkster is now
the number one suspect in what has been
called the worst ecological catastrophe in the
history of PC Columbia and Cowberta. Offi­
cials surrounded his tourist elk farm, making
several arrests.
"Like many who live the idealist life,
there was another story to him," Mayor Tim­
othy was recorded as saying, mere days be­
fore he disappeared in the most recent explo­
sion. "It doesn't surprise me that Jeffery
packed explosives," were some of his last
words.
The exact role Inkster played in the
bomb plot is still unclear, however, but po­
lice say a search o f his ranch turned up a
duffle bag which sampled positive for plastic
explosive residue. The bomb was apparently

fabricated in a garage operation using clock
parts, a barely salvaged nuclear warhead
uncovered from receding glaciers where it
had been hidden for almost a century, as well
as various street explosives.
Manifestoes, poems, and other items
related to an art sabotage plot were seized
from huts and yurts occupied by squatters in
the surrounding Free Lands. Some of this
Occupy group volunteered on Inkster's elk
ranch, and he is thought to have acted as
their figurehead.
Line searches are underway through
other properties of Enderbee for the vanished
elk farmer. The search team encountered not
a single elk on his property. The reason for
their disappearance was explained by a 50metre tear in the fence.

95

Jeffery Inkster would have been looking for me th a t night. I know he w ould have
been checking for me along th e base of Charybdis ridge. Then, not finding m e, walking back
to Innisfree through th e gap w e had to rn in th e fence. From there he w ould have seen th e
ridge erupt in a black gulf. I think he would have been on th e verge o f cardiac arrest. He
would suddenly rem em ber. Everything. Me. The duffle bag. Mars Ares. He n ev er w ould have
known about th e Bone Healer though, how th e Bone H ealer sent M ars Ares back into
history. With a co u n ter hypnosis from th e older story th a t g o t rid of Skull Crusher.
I imagine Inkster searching for m e through th e hole in th e fence. Hands lost in overall
pockets for soul change as he stum bles around a fte r me. Rem embering how a few w eeks
before I had left th e p arade early after whiffing uncharacteristically on th e juggle cascade ...
beginning to suspect. Then forgetting on cue. Then digging in his pocket w ith his w hole arm
to pull out his ancient oh so ancient wallet, to look a t a head-and-shoulders sh o t of
M nemosyne. "M nem osyne, oh M nem osyne ... Titan of all animals," he w ould think.
Innisfree was Inkster's art. But its closure w as his m asterpiece. I b e t he still scratches
his head and w onders, once in a while, if it actually was m e w ho did th e d eed . It w as indeed,
I cry out, from my new hum ble life w ithout an arm , in a w e t, readerly city so m ew h ere on
th e coast of Squashington. It w as m e, and by extension it w as you, Inkster, for w e w ere both
antlers of th e sam e Elkhead. And now I have footage of everything th a t tran sp ired , and th e
m eans to make it rich by selling th e fo o tag e of sabotage to new s syndicates.
Now I imagine Inkster saying "the elk are on th e m ove through th e vertical fo rests of
tim e, they smell the o d o u r of freedom in th eir fellow's arse, which leads th e m over th e pass
into th e m ountains beyond th e eskers, p ast Lethe and into th e open." He is saying "I wish I
could play my gurdy u nder th e fulsom e sky, th a t th ey com e galloping back over th e m oss to
show m e th e way into th e open, b u t th e elks d o n 't listen to th at song anym ore. They are
fled from th e chorus of country tunes."
That is w hat Inkster said, though it is my lips now which whisper th e se w ords as I sit
drinking a soy latte in Portlandsea. Jeffery Inkster has becom e th e hero. And I w as th e
director all along. The one w ho can dress up as anything. As Ares, the God of W ar.

96

I se arch ed for S am so n b e c a u se I feared h e m ig h t hav e gone a stra y ,
a n d m ight be o u t th e re in th e m o u n ta in s, looking, th ro u g h su icid e, to jo in
th e elk on th e ir re tre a t betw een th e e sk e rs a n d in to the open. I rec k o n
activists like him , all of w hom w ere com ing to Innisfree m ore a n d m ore
frequently, were in n eed of a n an im al friend a n d a m entor. T hey believed
th ey needed to com e w ork on a ra n c h s u c h a s m in e to rele arn forgotten
skills. T hen th ey discovered th e c o n tra d ic tio n of farm ing a n d tu r n e d a g a in s t
m e w ith a whole b u n c h of ism s. O ne d ay th e y tu r n e d a g ain st Innisfree, th e y
did, tak in g several M nem osyne a n d H yperions hostage. Me a n d S a m so n
resp o n d ed , like m a tu re people do to s m a rt criticism , and we a d a p te d . O kay,
okay, 111 stop doing th e velvet a n tle r su p p le m e n ts, I prom ised. I'll j u s t sell
th e ir ad ren alin e g lan d s in ste a d a n d m ak e a s h tra y s out of th e ir hoofs. The
people w ho cam e to Innisfree w ere d isa p p o in ted to see th ere is n o th in g h ere,
n o t even a real hero. We let th e elk go, actu ally . Sorry ...
B u t th a t—a n d by th a t I m ea n everything y ou have se e n o n th is to u r of
Innisfree so far—all h a p p e n e d before you co u ld see th e o u tlin e s of m y
th o u g h ts w hen you looked in to th e lan d . T h a t’s w h a t one of m y ra n c h h a n d s
told m e on th e la s t day of Innisfree. C laim ed h e saw my in n e r eye in th e
clo u d s a ro u n d th e valley. In k ste r Intelligence of som e sort, gone in to th e
lan d.
Medieval is w h a t sh e called it, th e one w ho sa id my m in d w as on e w ith
th e clouds h an g in g a s th o u g h ts along th e E n d erb e e eskers in th e d a rk w et
w oods, said th a t w as th e w ay it alw ays w a s before a certain tim e, w h en
sp irit a n d m a tte r were together. River to ra n c h , stre a m to fence, fo rest to
plain, evergreen to broadleaf. Bowing m y h e a d to th e giving e a rth , like a
sunflow er looking dow n on w h a t it grow s o u t o f ...
Everybody o u t th e re w as living th e lives of tokens, folks in a b o a rd
gam e of identity. All th e faces in th e tow n, th e face of the a rtis t a n d th e face
of th e m ayor, th e fire fighter’s m occasin h e a d , th ey could all fit s n u g in a
d eck of card s, shuffled a n d stack ed a n d laid face dow n, to be p u lled a t
ran d o m a n d analyzed.
The h u n te rs desire ra c k s too, th e y s u r e do. T he elk w ere m y se rv a n ts
a s m u ch a s I w as th eirs, th e ir a n tle rs slave to o u r w orship.
To h e ad o u t th e re w h en th e m oon is o n a sta r-c h a in a n d it h a s
becom e th e sta tio n ary p e n d u lu m . It's like living in a n exploded sto ry w elded
b a c k together, sm ooth a n d lean, lean like e lk m eat.
(The m ea t of th e elk is sh e a th e d in fat, u n lik e th e fa t in beef, w h ich b ead s.)
97

ELK FARMER UNFAZED BY ARREST
— 14 October 2037—
Several witnesses report that when law en­
forcement showed up at the ranch they found
elk fanner Inkster sitting in the middle o f a
field playing a boxed musical instrument
called the hurdy gurdy, singing a love song,
apparently unrequited.
Elk farmer Jeffery Inkster, charged
with eleven counts of capital crime against
the State, claims that a hypnotist was respon­
sible for coercing people of Enderbee into
participating in the bomb plot.
At the preliminary court hearing in
Canned Cougar, Inkster claimed that a man
with "white mustache and white sweatshirt,"
who was trained in a powerful combination
of Eye Movement Desensitization Repro­
gramming, hypnagogic inducement, and
post-hypnotic suggestion, had sent into a de­
structive swoon several townspeople.
"Mars Ares had a trained thrush. Had
animal pictures clipped from rustic maga­
zines," Inkster testified.
Inkster is currently being evaluated
for mental competency at the Canned Cougar
psychiatric institute.
The hypnosis theory will be inad­
missible at Inkster's trial, say lawyers, as it
has never been proven that that this tech­
nique can achieve a totalizing takeover o f an
individual's will. Doctor Sigmund Bush

took the stand to testify that hypnotic
techniques have no visible effect on heart
rate, body temperature, or central cognitive
patterns, making it highly unlikely that such
techniques could ever be used to manipulate
people into performing extremist acts.
Further threatening Inkster's case is
the media climate Troutsource has noted be­
fore: the Sun Media empire is no fan of am­
biguity. They need their bad guy, and it
doesn't matter if the person is innocent or
guilty, so long as they fit the description o f a
bearded angry person (aside from during the
Stanley Cup playoffs).
Once the guru-like elk farmer, Jeffery
Inkster—the same man who sawed off and
made powder from the antlers of his beloved
farm animals— is the definitive bad guy now.
Inkster is unrepentant about his com­
plicity in the plot, and seems not to regret the
tragic events surrounding his bizarre opera­
tion: "The ranch was a stepping stone to a
new life, and a new place, and it doesn’t
matter where I am, I am forever in that place.
Now I am free to go to jail, because the past
has gone home. Memily, Cheryl Hill, Sam­
son, even the Carlyles, are free to live in the
real future now, in the real Enderbee, in the
real world after the spill, after the antlers,
and after Innisfree."

98

Som etim es it is a mega ranch o th e r tim es an oil site. They call it the urban fo re st w h ere tre e
clones are planted by th e unknowing for th e unknown. Silvery pipes an n ex th e earth ,
connecting with o th e r pipe lines th a t netw ork through aspen system s suckering and
sprouting downwind from sulfur em issions, cottonw ood cologne merging w ith th e sem eny
smell of certain brush. Clasped arm s in th e cobble-riffle pool, th e rain crash es from nim bus
Olympus onto th e am phibian b reast to sacrifice, h er finger pointing to w ard s th e w idow
maker, breast, plate, arm o u r fire. Above th e m ouse burrow s and th e ru sted pitchfork stuck
in th e stump, within this now here grove filled with many things, a circle o f cloaked figures
reciting fibrous verse in a language draw n from th e earth. M ermaid w orm s you swim th e
silky soils, class 6 drainages, absorbing this escaping. W rithe slimy tails in th e w et pebbles,
down a riparian passage.

99

B ib liograp h y
Aristotle. Poetics. Trans. Richard Janko. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing,
1987. Print.
Bate, Jonathan. The Song o f the Earth. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2000.
Print.
Chalquist, Craig. A Glossary o f Ecological Terms. 2004-2009. Web. Accessed March
27, 2011. Clements, Brian Ed. "A Colloquium on the Prose Poem.” Sentence: A
Journal o f Prose Poetics 2 (2009): 121-139, 2004. Project M use.
Cole, Douglas and Bradley Lockner, eds. The Journals o f George M . Dawson: British
Columbia, 1875-1878. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 1989.
Print.
Dawson, George Mercer. No Ordinary M an. Ed. Bradley Lockner. Toronto: Natural
Heritage/Natural History Inc., 1993. Print.
Deville, Michel. "The American Prose Poem: Poetic Form and the Boundaries of
Genre. "Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 1998. Google Book Search.
Web. 2 Oct 2010.
Drengson, Alan and Taylor Duncan, eds. Ecoforestry. Gabriola Island: New Society
Publishers, 1997. Print.
Flanagan, Tom. “Resource Industries and Security Issues in Northern Alberta.”
Canadian Defense and Foreign A ffairs Institute (June, 2009). Web. 10 Feb,
2012. PDF file.
Fredman, Stephan. Poet's Prose: The Crisis in Am erican Verse. New York:
Cambridge University Press, 1990. Print.
Geist, Valerius and Michael H. Franci. Elk Country. Minocqua, Wisconsin:
Northword Press, 1991. Print.
Goodman, Paul. The Structure o f Literature. Toronto: University of Toronto Press,
1954. Print.
Graf, Fritz. Greek M ythology: A n Introduction. Trans. Thomas Marier. Baltimore:
The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993. Print.
Graff, Richard. "Prose Versus Poetry in Early Greek Theories of Style.” Rhetorica: A
Journal o f the History o f Rhetoric 23.4 (2005): 303-335. JSTOR. Web. 7 Oct
2010.
Haley, Jay. Uncommon Therapy. New York: Norton, 1993. Print.
100

Heidegger, Martin. On the W ay to Language. Trans. Peter D. Hertz. New York:
HarperCollins, 1971.
Huhn, Peter. The Narratological Analysis o f Lyric Poetry. Trans. Alastair Mathews.
New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2005. Google Book Search. Web. 12 Nov, 2010.
Johnston, Carol A. “Material Fluxes Across W etland Ecotones in N orthern
Landscapes.” Ecological Applications 3.3 (1993): 424-440. JSTOR. Web. 5
June 2011.
Kambourlei, Smaro. On the Edge o f Genre. Toronto: University of Toronto Press,
1991. Print.
Keahey, Debbie. Preface. Unfurled. Ed. Debbie Keahey. Halfmoon Bay: Caitlin Press,
2010. Print.
Krueger, Cheryl L. "Telling Stories in Baudelaire's Spleen de Paris.” NineteenthCentury French Studies 30.3 (2002): 282-300. Project M use. Web. 17 Sept
2010.
Lakoff, George. “Contemporary theory of metaphor." Metaphor and Thought. 2nd ed.
Ed. Andrew Ortony. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Print.
Leithead, Mark. "Northward migrating trees establish in tree fall gaps at the northern
limit of the temperate-boreal ecotone, Ontario, Canada.” Oecologia 164.4:
(2010). Web. 20 Feb 2011.
Levin, Simon A.. The Princeton Guide to Ecology. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton
University Press, 2009. Print.
Markotic, Nicole. "Narrotics: New Narrative and the Prose Poem.” N a rra tivity 1.
Web. 30 Sept, 2010.
McHale, Brian. "Beginning to Think about Narrative in Poetry.” N arrative 17.1.
(2009): 11-27. Project Muse. Web.
Moffett, Joe. The Search fo r Origins in the Twentieth-Century Long Poem.
Morgantown: West Virginia University Press, 2007. Print.
Mufwene, Salikoko. The Ecology o f Language Evolution. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2001. Print.
Olson, Charles. Call me Ishmael. New York: Reynal and Hitchcock, 1947. Print.
Payne, Neil and Fred Bryant, eds. Wildlife H abitat M anagem ent o f Forestlands,
Rangeland and Farmlands. Florida: Krieger Publishing Company, 1994.
Print.
Perloff, Maijorie. W ittgenstein’s Ladder. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press,
101

1996. Print.
Phillips, Jonathan D. “Divergence, Sensitivity, and Nonequilibrium in Ecosystems.”
Geographical Analysis. 36 (2004): 369-383. Print.
Polti, Georges. The Thirty-six dram atic situations. Trans. Ray Lucille. Ohio: J.K.
Reeve, 1921. Google Book Search. Web. 15 Sept 2010.
Preminger, Alex, et al. The N ew Princeton Encyclopedia o f Poetry a nd Poetics.
Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press. 1993. Print.
Reddy, Srikanth. "Changing the Sjuzet: Lyn Hejinian’s Digressive Narratologies."
Contemporary Literature 50.1 (2009): 54-93. Project Muse. Web. 5 Oct 2010.
Robbeson, Angela and Frank M. Tierney, eds. Bolder Flights: Essays on the
Canadian Long Poem. Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press, 1998. Google Book
Search. 1 Oct 2010.
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. “Essay on the Origin of Languages.” Trans. Jo h n T. Scott.
Essay on the Origin o f Languages and W riting Related to M usic. Ed. Jo h n T.
Scott. Hanover: University Press of New England, 1998. Print.
Rueckert, William. “Literature and Ecology”. The Ecocriticism Reader. Eds. Cheryll
Glotfelty and Harold Fromm. Athens: The University of Georgia Press, 1996.
Print.
Ryan, Marie-Laure. "Plot Holes and Narrative Design.” Narrative 17.1 (2009): 56-75.
Columbus: Ohio State University Press. Project Muse. Web. 16 Sept 2010.
Shelley, Percy Bysshe. “A Defense of Poetry.” English Essays: Sidney to M acaulay.
H arvard Classics. Ed. Charles W. Eliot. New York: P.F. Collier & Son, 1 9 0 9 14. Bartleby.com. 10 Apr. 2001. Web. 12 Nov 2011.
Shklovsky, Viktor. Theory o f Prose. Trans. Sher Benjamin. Normal, Illinois:
Elmwood Park, 1991. Print.
— . “Art as Technique.” Trans. Lee T. Lemon and Marion J. Reis. Literary Theory:
A n Anthology. Eds. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan. Malden: Blackwell
Publishing, 1998. Print.
Sloterdijk, Peter. Rage and Time: a psychopolitical investigation. Trans. Mario
Wenning. New York: Columbia University Press, 2010. Print.
Soper, Kate. W hat is Nature?. Malden: Blackwell Publishers, 1995. Print.
Soucy, Anne-Marie. "Difficulties in the Genre of Prose Poetry." Iris: Graduate
Journal o f French Critical Studies 3.1 (1987): 53-64. EBSCO. Web. 20 Sept
2010.
102

Thomas, Jack Ward and Dale E. Towiell. Elk o f N orth America: Ecology and
M anagement. Harrisburg: Stackpole Books, 1982. Print.
Wali, Mohan. “ecoVocabulary: A Glossary of Our Times.” Bulletin o f the Ecological
Society o f America 2.76 (Summer 1995): 106-111. Print.
Wilson, Edward Osborne. Biophilia. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
1984. Print.
Yeats, William Butler. The Countess Kathleen a nd Various Legends and Lyrics.
Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1893. Lib. of Con., 31 Dec. 2009. Web. 28 Ja n 2012.
PDF file.

103