the armories in Sudamerica. Sell our shares
in ToughCo, he said, without a hint of pride.

After the after-party, in the nursery, the baroness
blew three kisses to her three sons & went

to bed unfulfilled, while the baron consulted
his filibuster. The errands: left undone.

The forces arrayed against him. I am here
to report my country missing; I was wandering

the banana plantations & when I came back:
nothing. It’s a matter of sources—the baron

just can’t deliver outcomes. The baroness
knew this & backed intervention. Baron Jukaga,

we, your friends, are worried about you. You’re thinking
too much. In all fairness, he had few choices.

When the rainy season comes, & prices fall,
he’ll slip away with his pockets full of diamonds.

& beating a trail up a mountain, happy paths
sprung with weed. The low-hung twiggy brush

on fire with promise on the promontory.
Everything remains temporary until it’s not.

Somewhere in the mountains we stumble.
Fog rolls in, another actor on the stage, all sodden

& nomadic. The loosely-gathered gravels
strewn about are typical of gravity-plagued

geographies: a temblor would set them loose.
Hard to keep a footing in the lands of karst,

thrust, vale & dell. Ungird yourself.
If the words seem antiquated, that’s because.