QUEEN CITY, IL
I-55 THREE HUNDRED MILES IN TWO MINUTES

Looking in the mirror, I thought,
'behind me comes one
who has passed ahead of me
because he existed before.'

All journey expresses time
And all time is of an instant.
This is a poem of geography.

Lost in a forest of corn
I take pause in gratitude
To the unknown people
Who invented corn 8000 years ago
On the flat plains of Mexico
Where 108 degree sun
Anneals the desert
At it roasts the corn
Cooks the cows, and generates
Demand for power in Queen City.

The harvest Moon Drive-in
Has gone to seed,
The fields have gone to feed.

15 story microwave tower
in the middle of the fields,
a natural gas patch
on the middle of the flies,
pigs in the oil patch
in South Illinois,
then the sugar cane
and jack pines:
farms, not arms!

Until out of flatland complacency
At the big lake bayou
The monstrous Mississippi River bridge
Startles me into the South Land.