the things of long ago consider not;
see, I am doing something new!
Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
In the desert I make a way,
in the wasteland, rivers.
Wild beasts honor me,
jackals and ostriches,
for I put water in the desert
and rivers in the wasteland
for my chosen people to drink,
the people whom I formed for myself,
that they might announce my praise.
keystroking his tank into position in The Mother
of All Tank Battles. I turned back to the screen,
altered trajectory, each cursor tap a tank blast. Fast-
He knows someone’s inside. Is it his target? Who else
He watches the collapse replay on-screen, then
of disaster. We were Region Five. Coordinates run,
scenarios conceived, New Madrid fault lines, the possible
flood of Des Plaines, a tornado’s blinding spiral
rolling its dozer across the plain. No preparing for it,
was a mirror reflecting us and nothing beyond. The whole
to hold a blade, how to watch my reflection for every nick, how