in pursuit could burn off
flesh from bones
but made it back home
&
threw
carcass of White Beaver
on the ground
an end to water but the woman
cries / that beaver
was my son
that Great White Beaver!
that magician
) now whose flesh was cooked
&
whirlwind men
rolling heads with long hair
&
flaming eyes
came there sucking the beaver flesh
down to its bones
until the woman cried out
in a rage
&
drove them from
her home entered
a sweat house he had built for her
would die among its
white hot stones
Jerome Rothenberg
