Wheel of Fate
Night Song of the Los Angeles Basin By Gary Snyder
pollen dust blows
Swirl of light strokes writhing
knot-tying light paths,
Los Angeles basin and hill slopes
Checkered with streetways. Floral loops
Of the freeway express and exchange.
Vole paths. Mouse trails worn in
On meadow grass;
Winding pocket-gopher tunnels,
Marmot lookout rocks.
Houses with green watered gardens
Slip under the ghost of the dry chaparral,
Slash of calligraphy of freeways of cars.Into the pools of the channelized river the Goddess in tall rain dress tosses a handful of meal. Gold bellies roil mouth-bubbles, frenzy of feeding, the common ones, the bright-colored rare ones show up, they tangle and tumble, godlings ride by in Rolls Royce wide-eyed in brokers’ halls lifted in hotels being presented to, platters of tidbit and wine, snatch of fame, churn and roil, meal gone the water subsides. A mouse, a hawk.
The calligraphy of lights on the night
freeways of Los Angeles