A daunting map is all
We got, smudgy-ink’d in
Green relief. It lends airs
Of disbelief to our fever’d
Marginal lot. Books we read
Are the sort antiquarians recommend—
The frenzy of a zealot’s
End, the history of a social
Obligation, sexual exercise for sport.
Out the tent-flap door
One sees the piercing blue’d
Stretch of a lake obtrude.
An envoi reports ‘the way
Is mere wavering,’ unmark’d, and
Apt to sully souls used
To hours of senseless hammering.