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FROM MONTANA
EXCERPTS FROM THE BOOK
(from the poem) "Tom The Guide"
He told his stories in a deep and rhythmic southern voice
that sparkled, sun on water,
in the language of his eyes
and idled like the inboard engine of a Lone Star Launch
muffled by the mist
of a pine-scented summer sunrise.
"Eva heayah about..."he would playfully intone
then, possessed by his memories, he would continue on
about the time Jim Kennedy, the grand aristocrat
of those enshrined in his northwoods pantheon,
tried to squeeze the fifty-dollar bounty
out of a timber wolf he wrestled into his boat
right here in Oneida county
out toward Olmstead's island on Lake Tomahawk
until that critter half undressed him,
clawing at him with its feet
and he had to throw it overboard.