J.P. White
So Far As It Depends On You
It also depends on the naked, shipwrecked Filipino
standing beside the road covering her sex with a bar of soap,
waiting for the hot afternoon rain,
for who knows what chain of gullets put her there
and when they will return for more.
It depends upon the implacable rooster one step ahead
of the landslide and machete,
holding witness as the swollen tongue of the volcano
cuts to the sea stretched in darkness.
It depends upon the dancer swiveling outside the pawn shop
of cheap guitars and guns,
his body, part cobra, part mongoose,
And given to the eternal standoff at the end of the world.
It depends upon the blue-eyed enemy, the hummingbird feather,
The bleached coral city and the lighthouse with the broken neck.
It depends upon the one lost photograph
torn from the palace that reveals
who did the thing no one could imagine was possible.
What I’m trying to offer is this:
I’m worried about you and you are worried about me.
No matter which animal bares its teeth,
It depends on whether you and I will carry a shining leaf
to the center of the earth after the last tree is gone.
J.P. White is the author of the poetry collections The Sleeper at the Party (Defined Providence Press, 2001), The Salt Hour (The University of Illinois Press, 2001), The Pomegranate Tree Speaks from the Dictator’s Garden, (Holy Cow Press, 1988), and In Pursuit of Wings (Panache Books, 1978). His essays, articles, fiction, reviews, interviews and poetry have appeared in The Nation, The New Republic, The New York Times Book Review, The Los Angeles Times Magazine, The Gettysburg Review, American Poetry Review, Sewanee Review, Shenandoah, Prairie Schooner, and many other journals and anthologies. He holds a BA from New College (1973), an MA from Colorado State University (1977), and an MFA from Vermont College (1990). He lives on Lake Minnetonka near Minneapolis.
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